So Impossible
by Ariadne Quinn
Summary: Picking up a month after the events of "Cajun Spice," this story chronicles the evolution of Gambit and Rogue's relationship...
1. So Like a Rose

Author's note - The first two parts of this series take place after "Cajun Spice," but before "Ascension: Part 2." I took the liberty of making the episodes following "Cajun Spice" about a month apart from each other for the sake of the fic. This should all be pretty obvious from context, but I thought I'd mention it ahead of time just for the heck of it...

* * *

**  
Part 1 - So Like a Rose**

"Anything else, miss?"

Rogue shook her head slightly, bringing the coffee cup to her lips. "No thanks," she said quietly before sipping the newly poured hot liquid. She drank it burning hot and black as night. No milk, no cream, not even a pinch of sugar, though she could arguably stand to be a little sweeter. She was sitting in a corner booth of her favorite hangout - The Dungeon - a bar turned diner located in the basement of a local restaurant. She liked the fact that the diner still had the feel of a bar...dimly lit, with a more serious, adult-like atmosphere than most of the bright cheery teen establishments of Bayville. Granted, most of her fellow classmates weren't able to appreciate the ambiance the same way she did, but that didn't stop them from coming, and coming often. Aside from the excellent, though simple, food, they were fixated on the idea that it had once been a place that served large quantities of alcohol...for some reason this fact fascinated them.

At the moment, The Dungeon had a good-sized crowd in it, but because of her status as a regular, and her friendly relations with the owner, Rogue had managed to snatch a booth with enough room for four, even though she was alone. She had just finished writing in her journal, which was nothing more than a regular notebook where she recorded her thoughts and feelings whenever the spirit moved her. She wrote sporadically, sometimes going weeks without opening it, sometimes writing in it every day. It all depended on her mood, and whether or not she felt particularly alienated, or was working on alienating herself from those around her. In either case, she turned to her journal when she had something to say, but no one to tell. Since joining the X-Men, the need to write had diminished, but wasn't entirely extinguished. There were still things she wasn't comfortable sharing with anyone.

She closed the notebook and distractedly looked around. Nothing special about this crowd...wait.

Rogue quickly averted her eyes from their previous target, pretending that she hadn't noticed Gambit in a dark corner across the busy room. She smiled slightly as she finished her coffee. So he _was_ looking out after her, after all. On one hand it was a little creepy that he was semi-stalking her...but on the other, it was sweet that he was keeping an eye on her. From the brief time she'd spent with him in the past, she knew this was just his way of showing that he cared.

Still...he was kinda stalking her. A girl could take that the wrong way.

Not knowing if he realized that she spotted him, Rogue left some money on the table, threw on her coat, grabbed her notebook, and left. Once the door had closed behind her, she ran up the stairs into the alley and hid next to a nearby dumpster. She heard the door close a few seconds after she crouched down, followed by soft footsteps. The steps paused when they reached street level before walking towards the front of the building, where they paused once again.

_"Good,"_ Rogue thought with a silent laugh, _"he can't find me. Serves him right."_ She thought back to the previous month, when he had effectively kidnapped and used her, and her mood darkened. _"Especially after what he did."_

She listened for the footsteps to begin again, and waited several minutes after they had disappeared before she emerged from her hiding place. She made it back to the Institute without incident.

* * *

"Hey, hand me the torque wrench, will ya?"

Rogue looked up from what she was doing and glanced at the tools scattered around the garage floor. She found the tool in question and placed it in Logan's outstretched hand, sticking out from under the X-SUV. "Here ya go."

"Ya need any help with that?"

She swore she could hear a touch of nervousness in her otherwise fearless mentor. "Ah told you, ah know all about bikes, so quit askin'."

"Ok, ok...but if ya have any questions, let me know."

Rogue smiled at his uncertainty. She knew how much his motorcycle meant to him. When he asked her to could help him do some routine maintenance on the X-vehicles, she was more than willing, but had been astonished when he suggested she work on his bike. Touched by the invitation, she realized that it was more than just a request for help, and readily accepted.

She was tempted to talk to him about Gambit...but after several minutes of working in silence, decided against it. She was closer to him than anyone else...she felt like he understood her, and although he never said it, she knew that he felt the same way about her. But Rogue was uncomfortable talking to him about a guy she liked; it was almost as if it went beyond the boundaries of their friendship, even though they had shared more intimate information before. She was afraid he would brush her feelings aside, or worse, not understand. And if he did care, she was positive he wouldn't approve, especially after what happened recently. While she told her other teammates that she had voluntarily accompanied Gambit down to New Orleans in order to help him, and had not had the opportunity to notify them due to the urgency of the matter, she sang a different tune when she had a chance to speak to Logan alone. To him, she confessed the truth, the whole truth, from the time she was grabbed in the alley to the moment he had almost sliced and diced the Cajun. He took it well, all things considering, though she thought she saw a flicker of regret cross his face when she was finished...like he wished he _had_ gotten in at least one good swipe of his claws.

A whiff of brimstone and a soft _bamf_ brought her back to reality.

"Hey Rogue..."

A clatter, a bang, and a groan came from under the SUV, and Logan rolled himself out.

"Elf, ya gotta stop doin' that when I'm workin' on the cars..."

"Sorry, Logan," Kurt apologized before turning to Rogue. "Did you know that you got mail?"

"Me...? You gotta be kiddin' me. Who would send me somethin'?" He handed over an envelope with her name on it. "That's weird, there's no address...you sure this came in the mail?"

"Well," he looked at her sheepishly, "I'm not sure really...it was on your bed."

"What were you doin' in mah room?" she demanded, forgetting about the letter.

He put up his hands. "Don't get upset...I wanted to borrow your history book, but when I knocked, you didn't answer."

"That doesn't mean you have the right to..."

"I know, but I really needed it, and sometimes you don't answer the door if you don't want to be disturbed...I thought I could 'port in and grab the book without bothering you, no harm done."

She sighed. Ever since she found out that he was her foster-brother, Rogue had slowly but surely developed a soft spot for Kurt. What he did wasn't so bad...it was just an annoying invasion of privacy that brothers have been thoughtlessly committing since the dawn of time. "Don't do it again, ok?"

"I won't," he assured her. He waited a few seconds before his curiosity got the better of him. "Well, aren't you going to open it?"

"Oh, yeah," she said, remembering the envelope in her hand. She ripped it open and unfolded the piece of paper.

_Sleeping with ghosts  
__It's such a lonely experience  
__The stars are out tonight  
__Only they can hear you breathing (1)_

___Meet me on the hill overlooking town tonight, 8 pm_.

Rogue read it over three times...she couldn't believe it. The message wasn't signed, but it didn't take a genius to figure out who it was from.

"Well..." Logan ventured. "What is it?"

She felt her face flush at the question as she stuffed the letter back in its envelope. "Nothing...it's nothing. Nothing important." She quickly turned her back on them and went back to tinkering with his bike, pretending to be engrossed in her work. It was a lame attempt at trying to hide her feelings, but she was so flustered by the unexpected invitation that she couldn't think of anything better.

Logan and Kurt exchanged a surprised glance...neither had ever seen Rogue's face that shade of crimson before. Kurt shrugged and left the garage, leaving Logan to ponder the possibilities alone.

* * *

She had just finished drying her hair when there was a knock on the door.

"You gonna be in there all night?" Kitty asked impatiently.

"Just a second," Rogue called back, trying to hide her annoyance. It wasn't like she went out all that often and needed the bathroom for hours at a time to primp like _some_ people... "Finished," she announced as she emerged from the steamy bathroom in nothing but a towel.

Kitty pushed past and slammed the door behind her. Rogue ignored her and ran back to her room where she hastily closed the door and began to get dressed. This wasn't a date...not technically. Or, at least, she didn't think it was. Her love life was nonexistent before her powers surfaced, and now that they had, it was practically impossible for her to have an intimate relationship. So as much as she wanted this to be a date, she doubted it was. _"Still,"_ she thought to herself, slipping on a pair of black jeans, _"he wants me to meet him somewhere relatively remote at night..."_

She went over to her dresser and pulled out the top she had previously decided to wear - a dark green sweater that was practically off the shoulder, and ended right at her hips. It showed off her figure nicely without being skin tight. Rogue glanced into the mirror once she put it on. _"Perfect."_ She wanted to look nice, but not too nice. After all, she wasn't convinced it was a date. After grabbing a pair of socks and her boots, she made her way back to the dresser, leaned in towards the mirror and carefully applied her makeup. When she was done, she backed up a few steps and studied herself in the mirror. She had opted to wear a strapless bra, rather than her characteristic black tank top beneath the sweater, accentuating the line of her neck and shoulders, and making her look a little more grown up...a little more elegant...

A soft knocking interrupted her thoughts. "Rogue...you in there?" on in."

Kurt slipped in, leaving the door ajar behind him. "Look, I just wanted to say how sorry I am that I came in here before...hey, you look good."

Her eyes brightened slightly at the compliment. "Really?"

"Yeah...I mean, you always look good, but now you look great."

"Thanks," she replied, grabbing her rose scented perfume, which she only wore on special occasions, and quickly sprayed it on her wrists and neck.

"You goin' out?" He asked cautiously, sitting on her bed.

"What was your first clue?"  
"Rogue, can I borrow your..." Kitty began as she opened the door. "Hey, you goin' out?"

She rolled her eyes at the question. "What do you wanna borrow?"

"Oh...um...I was wondering if you could lend me your collection of Edgar Allen Poe stories...I have to write a paper on..."

Rogue didn't wait for her to finish. She walked over to her bookcase, grabbed the book in question, and handed it over. "Just be careful with it."

Kitty accepted the book, and had intended on leaving, but she had to find out what was going on first. Rogue went back to the mirror and brushed her already neat hair.

"You look fine...stop stalling," Kurt encouraged.

"Yeah, you look fine," Kitty agreed. "Since when do you fuss over your looks? It's not like you have a hot date or something..."

Rogue threw her a dirty look and turned away so she couldn't see her blush. Kitty was puzzled for a moment, she didn't know Rogue was interested in anyone other than maybe Scott, and he was officially off the market. But then, as she watched Rogue give herself one last glance in the mirror, something caught her eye. There, wedged between the glass and the wooden frame lay a Queen of Hearts card.

"Ah gotta go." Rogue grabbed her gloves and gave Kurt a meaningful look. "Just make sure you leave when you're done in here."

Once she was gone, Kitty let out a disapproving sigh. "I can't believe she's going on a date with that guy."

"What guy?" Kurt asked, hoping that Kitty didn't really know what she was talking about...because if _she_ knew, it wasn't long before the whole mansion found out.

She walked up to the mirror and plucked the card from its mount. "This guy, you know, Mr. Everything-I-Touch-Blows-Up."

Kurt grabbed the card from her and carefully returned it to its place. "Oh, like you should talk...how many hours have you spent on the phone talking to Lance?"

"That's different...Lance wouldn't hurt a fly."

"Um, Kitty, I hate to break it to you, but there have been occasions that you've had to phase through massive amounts of rock thanks to Avalanche. If it wasn't for your powers, you'd be flat as a pancake."

"Yeah, but he'd never hurt me on purpose. He's not like the others, you know? Just because he hangs out with that bunch of losers doesn't mean..."

"..doesn't mean he doesn't care about you," Kurt finished. "Maybe it's the same way with this Gambit guy." He thought back to the way the two had looked at each other when they parted in the bayou...there was definitely something going on between them.

"Well, I still don't think it's right," Kitty stated, storming out. Kurt followed her, turning off the lights and closing the door behind him.

* * *

_"Why am I even botherin'?"_ Gambit asked himself as he finished his preparations. _"It's not like this is gonna go anywhere..."_ Behind him, the sound of an engine approached, and the slight quickening of his pulse gave him all the answer he needed. _"Because it takes a special girl to get Remy's heart racin'."_

He turned around as Rogue parked her bike next to his under a tree. She took off her helmet, shook out her hair, and expertly swung her leg over the seat. Gambit involuntarily smiled as he approached her, party because it was good to see her, and partly because he recognized the bike.

"Points for brass, cherie. I see you've 'borrowed' Wolverine's property for the night."

An annoyed look crossed her face, and he immediately realized his mistake. "Mah kind of borrowin' involves askin' permission, not like some people's..."

He left the accusation alone, mostly because she was right. "Never occurred to me that Wolverine would let anyone borrow his motorcycle...you know, the bond between a man and his bike is a sacred thing."

This was apparently enough of an explanation for her, because she dropped it. "So, ah'm here, whadda ya want?"

"The girl likes to get right to the point I see," he said, motioning her to follow. "I have prepared, in my unbiased opinion, some of the finest southern home cookin' you'll ever taste."

He lead her to a clearing on the hill, where he had spread a picnic blanket, upon which lay a medium sized black bag, and two unlit long black candlesticks in crystal holders. "What's all this?"

"This," he said, taking a deep breath in anticipation of using a word that he rarely humbled himself to say, "is an apology." She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow at him. "Look, I'm sorry about last month, I shouldn't have done what I did."

She walked onto the blanket and knelt down, opening the black bag, which was filled with still-warm tupperware containers, plates, napkins, and utensils. "You made me dinner?" she asked, a smile touching the corner of her mouth.

"A gentleman always atones for his mistakes," he replied, sitting across from her and spreading the contents of the bag between them."

"Funny," she thought aloud, "you never struck me as the gentleman-type." He stopped what he was doing and looked at her. "You're more of a 'I get whatever I want' kinda guy...a ladies man."

"True enough," he admitted, touching the tips of the candle wicks and charging them. "But even a guy like that can change."

The wicks sprang to life with energetic flames. _"Ah hope so,"_ Rogue thought to herself. "So, what's for dinner?"

* * *

Gambit had made a variety of spicy southern foods, all of which Rogue enjoyed thoroughly. He had even brought along sparkling cider - non alcoholic because Rogue wasn't of age yet and he secretly worried that she'd get in trouble for consuming even a little bit of the bubbly - which they drank out of plastic champagne glasses.

"That was delicious," Rogue said, sipping her cider. "Never would'a pegged you as a guy who knew his way around a kitchen."

"I'm full of surprises," Gambit agreed before becoming serious. "I was raised one of many, trained from an early age to become a master thief...we took turns doin' chores. Learnin' how to cook kept the older members of the guild happy with me. Most of the time, anyway."

She made a face. "That must'a been horrible, livin' like that, a nameless face in a crowd, nobody to love you..."

He shrugged. "Didn' know there was any other way it could be back then, so it wasn't so bad."

"Even though your...father...was the leader of the Thieves Guild, you didn't get any special treatment?"

"You have to earn your place in the guild...even blood relations have to carve out a niche of their own."

"An' ah thought ah had it bad with mah so-called skin condition..."

"Can't choose the hand you're dealt," he said before changing the subject. "You seem to be settlin' in nicely with your new family."

"Ah still don't know if ah really fit in with them, but at least ah know they care about me...an' if ah'm ever in trouble, they'll be there in a heartbeat."

Gambit nodded. "So I've seen."

"You know," Rogue began, treading lightly, "the door is always open to anyone who wants to join. Ah mean, ah wasn't exactly always an ally, and even an out-and-out enemy like Lance almost became an X-Man..."

"It's a nice thought, but I don't..."

"C'mon," she urged, "ah think you'd make a good addition to the team."

"Maybe. Maybe someday. But not yet. I'm finally on my own, I don't need to become another face in the crowd following orders again." He'd actually been considering joining the X-Men for a while now, but wasn't quite ready to do so.

"It's not like that," she argued.

"I know, I know, I didn' mean it the way it sounded."

"Well, if you change your mind, you know who to come to."

Gambit looked up at the stars...the spring sky had moved, it was getting late. And the last thing he wanted to do was get Rogue in trouble for staying out past the curfew he knew she must have. He got up and offered her his hand. "I appreciate the thought, p'tite, an' I won't forget it. But now I think it's about time I got you home."

She was disappointed, but knew he was right. She helped him clean up in silence, and was happy when he offered to follow her back, just to make sure she got home all right. Gambit was as good as his word, and she stopped at the gate to thank him.

"It was nothin'...so is it safe to assume I'm forgiven my sins?"

"Well," she said, pretending to mull it over as she removed her helmet. "Ah guess so...at least for the whole Louisiana mess. In the future, if you want mah help, ask. As for your other sins, ah'll have to deal with them one at a time whenever it is you decide to share them."

Rogue was half-kidding, but she didn't know how close to the truth she was. "I'll just have to do a whole lotta cookin' then."

"Ah'm always in the mood for somethin' spicy, you tell me the time an' the place an' I'll be there."

"Well, then, I guess this is good night."

"No, wait," she said, suddenly remembering the question that had been secretly tormenting her since reading his note. "Why 'So Like a Rose'?"

"What?"

"Your note...you quoted the song 'So Like a Rose'...what's that about?"

He gave her one of his trademark charismatic grins. "Can't figure it out yourself?"

Rogue peered at him curiously from behind the lock of hair that inevitably fell directly in her line of vision. There were a million reasons why he could've chosen that song...because he's been doing his homework, so he knew she liked Garbage, because that verse was so wonderfully dark that he knew she'd like it, because he knew that's how she felt sometimes...but she didn't share any of these thoughts with him, because she somehow knew that while all of these factors played a part in his choice, the main reason was a mystery to her.

He moved as if to stroke her cheek, but stopped himself just before his fingers touched her face. "Didn't anyone ever tell you that you resemble a rose, Rogue?"

Just hearing him say her name sent an electric current through her body. "No," she whispered with effort. He didn't say anything more, and the few seconds of silence allowed her to collect herself and revert to her typical response to people trying to get close to her - defensiveness. "Me an' roses ain't got nothin' in common, so stop tryin' to charm me with your romantic crap."

Gambit, who didn't have a patient bone in his body, at least, not when it came to people, smiled at her response, and calmly went on to explain his logic. "Sure you do...you both look pretty," he leaned forward and inhaled, "you both smell pretty, and you both have ways of keepin' people from touchin' you. Roses got thorns, you have your powers...and your attitude, so no one can get close to you, physically or otherwise."

She never thought of it that way before...he did have a point. And it was kinda romantic. And it took some thought on his part. "Ah guess."

"Think about it, an' we'll discuss it another time. But for now, it's time for you to get inside before you get in trouble, or worse, they send Wolverine out to sic me again."

"Honey, you don't know the half of it," she laughed.

Now that she was in a better mood again, it was time to use that old fashioned Cajun allure to flirt a little. "You know, this is the part where I'd kiss you good night..."

Rogue blushed, thankful for the minimal light. "But ah guess you can't, huh?"

"Oh I don't know," he teased, "maybe it's worth it."

Rather than being annoyed, Rogue was amused. She decided to accept the challenge and throw it back in his face. "Oh yeah, well no one's stoppin' you, Cajun," she mocked, leaning forward so he could feel her hot breath on his face.

He froze, gazing into her glittering green eyes with a mix of wonder and fear. She smiled and backed away, triumphant, but disappointed. "Thanks for dinner...it was fun. 'Night, Gambit."

After punching the code on the keypad and opening the gate, she got back on her bike and put her helmet on - no way was she getting in trouble for not wearing the blasted thing for the short drive to the garage.

"Hey Rogue," he called after her, and she turned around expectantly. "Call me Remy."

* * *

It wasn't that late, but most of the lights were out in the mansion, and the halls were empty. Not only did they have a curfew at the Institute, they had a "lights out" - which wasn't so much a bedtime as it was a time they had to be in their rooms by. In theory, lights out was supposed to encourage them to go to sleep, but they still had video games, CD players, and mountains of homework that sometimes kept them from getting to bed until much later. Still, as long as you didn't disturb anyone else's rest, you could pretty much stay up as late as you wanted.

Rogue had made curfew by a good ten minutes, and lights out by over an hour, so she was a little confused by the darkness of the entrance hall. She shrugged it off, assuming that everyone else was in, and they had forgotten that she'd gone out tonight. After all, no one really hung out here, so there'd be no reason to keep the lights on at night except for someone coming in. She was mistaken, however, in thinking that her teammates had forgotten her, it was quite the opposite, in fact, but so few of them knew about her nocturnal activity tonight, that one of her uninformed peers turned the lights off to conserve electricity.

She went to the kitchen to grab an apple on the way to her room, and found Logan sitting at the table, reading a newspaper. Unbeknownst to her, Logan had picked up the paper in an attempt to distract himself while he anxiously awaited her return. He suspected the note was from Gambit when he saw Rogue's reaction to it, and this suspicion was confirmed when she asked to borrow his bike for the evening. It was a difficult thing for him to do, but he leant her his pride and joy because he trusted her...and because he knew how embarrassing it would be for her to meet him driving Scott's flashy convertible, or Jean's fashionable SUV.

"So, did you have a good time?" he asked without taking his face out of the paper.

"Yeah...it was nice."

There were no apples left, so she took an orange instead. Rogue once again considered telling Logan about Gambit, and once again decided against it. There was no way he'd be interested in her stupid little crush.

In a way, she was right. Logan didn't like kids when he was a kid...or, at least, he didn't think he did. His mind was so messed up he could only remember so far back, and that certainly didn't involve his childhood. And even though he enjoyed working with the X-Men and new recruits, they drove him crazy sometimes with their emotional outbursts that ran anywhere from fits of excessive silliness to eruptions of teen angst. But the others were more outgoing and popular than the rogue, who was introverted, somewhat insecure, and secretive. She needed someone to confide in, and he knew that he had become one of the few people in her life that she felt she could trust. "You know," he began as she was leaving, "I'm always here for you, kid. If you ever want to talk about anythin', you can come to me."

"Even if it's stupid an' insignificant?"

Logan folded the top of the newspaper down, peering at her. "Even if it's about a boy."

"Really?"

"Absolutely."

"So...you tellin' me you wanna hear about mah night?"

"If you're in the mood to share."

Rogue's face shone with excitement as she sat across him and began telling him about her night down to the smallest detail. Logan watched in wonder as his moody wallflower opened up and became a fully bloomed beauty. He wasn't a big fan of Gambit, but he marveled at the change he brought out in Rogue.

By the time she'd finished, he had decided that maybe there was hope for the Cajun after all, though he didn't say so to Rogue. Listening hadn't been the torture he had anticipated, and it really seemed to mean a lot to her, so he was glad he offered to lend his ear.

After saying good night to Logan, she replayed the events of the night in her head as she ascended the stairs, and realized something...

It had been a date after all.

* * *

(1) - Excerpt from _So Like a Rose_, by Garbage 


	2. Harder to Breathe

**Part 2 - Harder to Breathe**

"She's late."

Gambit glanced up at The Dungeon's clock and shrugged. "Didn' give her much notice...'sides, she's only 10 minutes late."

James Wallington suppressed a grin as he slowly set the tables. He was the owner and proprietor of The Dungeon, which was closed to the public at the moment. But he was friendly with Gambit, and even friendlier with Rogue, so when the Cajun asked for a favor - namely to allow the couple to meet there during off hours - he was more than happy to oblige. Especially since he thought he was encouraging a budding romance between the two. "She'll be here," he assured his young customer.

But Gambit wasn't afraid that she wouldn't show, nor was he plagued by the nervousness that usually accompanies the anticipation of seeing someone you had strong feelings for. No, under his seemingly cool exterior, he was secretly worried that she'd be too late, that they'd get to him first.

Just then the door opened, and Rogue stepped in. Both men stared in surprise at her ballet-necked, dusty pink top with ¾ length sleeves and black wrap skirt with tiny flowers scattered across it. This wasn't exactly typical Rogue attire. It was...well...pretty. Soft. Feminine. But this new look wasn't without some trademark Rogue accouterments, like the tank top peaking out from under her shirt, silver studded choker, gloves, and classic purple makeup.

"Oh mah God," she said, dropping her backpack on the floor. "Jimmy, turn it up, ah love this song."

Although Gambit had long ago tuned out the radio playing in the background, now that Rogue mentioned it, he heard it once again. The owner of The Dungeon did as he was told, and she immediately began to move in time with the music, closing her eyes and swaying her hips. As her right hand slowly made its way down the side of her body, she reached down and dragged her left across her partially exposed abdomen in a surprisingly seductive move - black leather caressing pale smooth flesh. Gambit's worries temporarily melted away, captivated by the emergence of a side of Rogue he'd never seen before - a confident, sexy Rogue, who felt comfortable enough in her surroundings to let loose.

"Hey, Jimmy, dance with me?" She called across the room.

"No thanks," he called back. "I've got too much stuff to do before I open."

Rogue turned her attention to Gambit and slinked towards him, still in time with the music. "Dance with me, Remy?" She purred when she reached him.

"I'm not much of a dancer..."

But she wasn't taking no for an answer. "The song's almost over, come on," she urged, grabbing his hand.

Gambit allowed himself to be pulled up and let her lead him to a clearing on the floor. Rogue stopped and turned her back to him, placing his hands on her hips, still swaying back and forth. He looked down at her and watched her lips move soundlessly, mouthing the song's lyrics. His eyes traced from her lips to her chin, from her chin down her long, lovely neck that he was aching to kiss...

She suddenly broke away, turned around, and threw her arms around his neck. He instinctively grabbed her waist, and for a few seconds, they moved together as one. Rogue's eyelids fluttered, and she suddenly gazed into his eyes with a deadly serious expression as she softly sang the last lines of the song.

" '...and like a little girl cries in the face of a monster that lives in her dreams...is there anyone out there, 'cause it's gettin' harder and harder to breathe..." (1)

She repeated the last line twice, and the song ended. Her face was inches from his as she searched his features for an answer to her wordless plea. Whatever light hartedness she had entered the diner with was gone, replaced by a desperate, haunting hunger he saw in her eyes. He pulled her against him, pressing their bodies together, and leaned forward, closing his eyes and parting his lips slightly.

As delicious as the anticipation of her first kiss was, Rogue somehow managed to respond to the faint warning bells going off in the deepest corners of her mind. She tried to pull away, but as gentle as his hold was, it was also firm and unyielding. She released his neck and put a hand to his lips. "Don't."

Gambit opened his eyes and looked at her curiously. "Cherie, Gambit's got energy to spare..."

"No," she said, her voice getting stronger. She put both hands on his chest, but didn't struggle against his embrace. Despite the mix of hormones and adrenaline rushing through her body, Rogue suddenly felt like things were happening way too fast...like she had jumped off a cliff without a parachute, and realized only now that she was going to be splattered all over the ground if she didn't find a way to stop her fall. And so, in spite of the brick wall they had almost just hit, that would inevitably become an issue further down the road every time one reached out to simply touch the other, the idea of absorbing him was not what frightened her. But she was afraid nonetheless. "No...ah'm not ready."

Gambit had courted many a girl, and this was not the first time these words had been directed at him. But before they had always been a source of annoyance and frustration...now they inspired the special kind of patience that she had so recently brought out in him. "Then we wait."

The uncharacteristic cheerfulness she had entered with returned, and they sat down.

"So, what's the problem?"

He'd almost forgotten about his troubles...and even when he was reminded of them, they seemed distant and unimportant at present. "I'm havin' some problems with a couple 'a guys, but that can wait...what's with you?"

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

"It means that you're not your usual brooding self...what gives?"

"Ah'm not allowed to have a good day every now and then?" she asked, scowling.

He sighed. It was always extremes with this girl - either he said something that totally pissed her off, or his words made her blush with delight. There were no in-betweens in this relationship. "An' what has happened today that has had such a positive effect on my lady?"

Teasing Rogue was always a gamble, he never knew how'd she respond - with a smile or a smack - but he couldn't help himself. It was in his nature to good-naturedly rib the ones he loved.

In this case, his words were received in the manner in which they were intended. "You're lookin' at a lady who not only survived one a' Logan's infamous training sessions without a scratch, but one whose team successfully completed our objective in the allotted time."

"Ok..."

"Ok? Let me tell you somethin', Logan's training sessions aren't exactly a walk in the park...they're like hikin' down to hell an' back barefoot in the middle a' July. And," she paused for effect, "ah was the leader of mah team, an' even though we worked together, ah'd like to think that mah leadership skills played an important part in our team becomin' the first one _ever_ to accomplish one of Logan's impossible tasks."

"Congrats, cherie."

She was glowing with pride. "Thanks."

"So that's why you were late, you were busy leadin' your friends to victory?"

"No, ah was late because you don' give a girl any notice. In fact, you're lucky ah'm here at all...ah was on mah way out when I had to run back to mah room to grab somethin', an' ah happened to find your note...by the way, the next time you go sneakin' around mah room, close the window on the way out, please."

"Sorry...I had other things on my mind."

"An' they are...?"

"Remember that rival gang we came across in New Orleans?"  
"The Rippers?"

"Yeah...they're after me again, an' I could really use your help."

"Well," she pretended to consider his request for a few seconds, "ah suppose so, especially with you askin' so nice an' all."

"Thanks," he said, standing. "I appreciate it."

She stood as well. "An' _this_ time, ah'm prepared. First of all, ah had a chance to give Logan a heads up...ah practically had to chain the man to the gate to keep him from comin' along...but ah figured you wanted to keep the troops small." He nodded and she continued. "So ah promised ah'd call him regularly with updates, and he promised not to interfere."

An idea popped into his head - Rogue and Logan? Nah...he was being silly. Still, as he replayed past events in his mind - tracking her down with him and Sabertooth when she was under Mesmero's spell, being nearly mauled by his hand when he'd finally caught up to them in the bayou - the signs were there. "He really looks after you, huh?"

"Ah guess." She only saw his unspoken implication when she looked into his eyes. "Me an' Logan? Are you on somethin'? He's _way_ too old for me."

"You know the sayin' - love knows no age."

"Maybe not for you. Besides...me an' him ain't like that....we're more, ah don't know, more like..."

"Brother and sister?" he suggested.

"God no...ah already have one a' those...he's not a brother, he's not a father...ah can't describe it."

Gambit breathed a sigh of relief. "What's in the bag?" he asked as she retrieved her backpack.

"You think ah'm goin' on some wild adventure in this?" She gestured to her clothes. "Puh-lease. Kitty would kill me if ah wrecked her skirt. Ah got mah uniform an' a couple a' changes of clothes in here, 'cause ah figured with you, anythin's possible."

He reached in front of her and held open the door. "So, you know me that well already?"

"Ah'm a fast learner."

They had made their way into the alley, and were walking towards the street when a voice said, "Not fast enough, _cherie_."

Before either could react, both were grabbed by several pairs of hands. Gambit's hands were forced into what looked like oven mitts before his wrists were tied in front of him, while Rogue's backpack was flung to the ground and her wrists were tied behind her back.

"Well, well, well," the leader mocked as his goons finished their work and forced their captives to face him. "If it isn't Remy LeBeau an' his girl de jour. Fancy meeting you here."

"Bonjour, Julien, nice weather we're havin'..."

"Yeah...too nice, if you ask me. I'd rather your last day on Earth be miserable. But I'll have to settle for dis." He turned his attention to the men holding a still struggling Rogue. "Blindfold her an' throw her in de trunk."

Rough hands tied a rag around her eyes and pushed her along the alley. These were definitely the same guys they'd met in New Orleans - they must've clued in about her powers, because they were all wearing gloves despite the warm weather. Suddenly, she was lifted and placed into what she assumed was the trunk of a car. The lid slammed shut a moment later. Shortly thereafter, the doors of the vehicle opened and shut, the engine started, and they were on their way.

Rogue struggled to free herself, but it soon became obvious that her efforts were pointless. Her wrists were expertly secured, there was no way of slipping out of her bindings. She attempted to look for a weapon by feeling around the trunk, but her search was unsuccessful. So she decided to try to listen to the conversation going on between the other occupants of the car, and was frustrated to discover that the tools stored beneath the rug that lined the trunk rattled too often for her to be able to hear anything but a word here and there.

Without knowing where they were going, what the Rippers planned on doing to her and Gambit, and with the additional handicap of not being able to see, there was little else she could do. Rogue's thoughts wandered...she should've let Logan come along...she should've changed and given Kitty her stupid skirt back before she left to meet Remy...Remy. _"What have you gotten yourself into?" _She asked him in her mind. "_What have you gotten _me_ into?"_ What's more, what was she going to do about him, provided that they somehow got out of this mess? First off, they were going to have to sit down and have a long talk about his involvement with the Thieves Guild, and their rivalry with the Rippers. He seemed hesitant to share details about his past with her, and she didn't want to pry, but if his past was going affect her, he had an obligation to disclose pertinent information. And if their relationship continued in the same direction it was heading, his past would most likely play a part in her future.

Their relationship. If you could call it that. Getting together once a month to share a few intense hours together wasn't exactly a sign of a healthy relationship. But could it ever be healthy? Or normal? She saw him hesitate when he reached up to stroke her cheek last month...and she stopped him from kissing her only an hour ago. Look, don't touch. But that's not how the world worked. Everyone touched...you saw, you touched. It was natural. Instinct. You can't fight nature. It was her nature to be isolated, alone. No matter how close people tried to get, she was untouchable. A rose. Be careful. The thorns hurt.

And what was she thinking this afternoon? God, dancing around like that in front of him? She blushed in the dark. Was she that desperate for affection that she'd open her heart and soul to a near-stranger? No...she didn't think so. There was something about him, they way he looked at her, the way he talked, the way he moved...the way he spoke to her, with his quiet, patient eyes and soft accepting voice...he knew her in a way no one else did. She and Logan were kindred spirits, but Remy was her soul mate. The idea startled her. Soul mates? She barely knew him. But the thought rang true...and that's why she had jumped off the cliff without a parachute. She saw the edge and laughed at it. She not only laughed, she took a running leap off it. Her laughter echoed along the cliffs as she fell, confident that no harm would come to her. The jagged rocks speeding towards her were nothing. He would catch her. That's what she was counting on.

But what if he didn't?

The car stopped, and it was only a matter of seconds before she heard the click of the trunk opening. She was helped out onto her feet. "Ya know, if you're so mad at Gambit, maybe you should'a put _him_ in the trunk."

Chuckles surrounded her, and the leader, Julien, spoke. "You're a feisty one. LeBeau did well with you."

"Ah wish ah could say the same..." she moved her head around, unable to locate Gambit from under her blindfold. "This your idea of a fun date?"

His voice was much closer than she expected; it made her jump. "Isn't it yours?"

"Are you ok?" she asked, lowering her voice.

"Jus' fine...I have good news, an' bad news."

The two were pushed along, side by side, with someone holding Rogue's arm, guiding her.

"Ah guess the bad news first."

"Can't use my powers.

"Wonderful. An' the good news."

He leaned close and whispered so the others couldn't hear. "They don't know you absorb people."

She smiled, though she didn't completely understand...if they didn't know she absorbed people with her touch, why were these guys wearing gloves?

"Don' let dat good-for-nothin' t'ief charm you, cherie," Julien cautioned, mistaking Gambit's words for sweet nothings. "You're not de first t' fall under his spell."

"Julien..." Gambit's voice warned.

"So you haven't told her? Dis is gonna be more fun den I thought," Julien laughed. He waited until his captives were safely aboard the boat he had rented before he began his games. "Remy is famous for more den jus' his thievin' skills down in our neck of the woods."

"What the heck does that mean?"

"You're not stupid, cherie, you know exactly what it means. De man of your dreams has kissed many girls..."

"Julien..." Gambit's voice spoke up again. "Leave it alone."

"You see, Rogue," Julien continued, sitting next to her, "what we have here is a guy who has a different woman by his side every week or so. He charms 'em, uses 'em, an' throws 'em t' de wolves when he no longer has use for 'em."

"Like ah'm gonna believe a guy who ties me up an' kidnaps me."

"Jus' like Remy did in March?"

"That's different..."

"Is it?"

"Yes." Her voice was strong, but her inner resolve wavered.

"He didn' tell you why we're after him, did he?"

"You didn' give me the chance," Gambit said dejectedly. "But I was gonna tell her."

"Do you believe dat? 'Cause I don'," Julien said, dropping his voice and putting an arm around Rogue. "You see, Remy once had his eye on my little sister - a beautiful blonde little t'ing - but it was more dan her looks dat attracted him. He could use her t' get t' me, to infiltrate de Rippers...so he seduced her. And when she couldn't give him what he wanted, he jus' got up an' left. She was only 16..."

"Love knows no age..." she repeated his earlier words with disgust.

"Wait a minute," Gambit jumped in. "Julien sees only what he chooses to see...first of all, dis happened years ago, when I was 18...and Belladonna was no naive little virgin when I met her."

"Lies!" Julien hissed in her ear.

"She knew exactly what she was doin'," Gambit insisted. "Hell, she taught me a thing or two..."

"What about de others, LeBeau? What about Jacqueline? What about Veronique? What about Antoinette...and Simone....and Anna Marie....and...."

"That's enough."

"Do you have anythin' to say for yourself?"

"I'm not that man anymore."

"What do you t'ink, cherie? Has Remy changed?" Julien asked.

She hung her head. "Ah don't know," she said quietly. She always knew that he had a past...but she thought it would be crammed with acts committed against the law, not the heart.

"So you _do_ fancy de lyin', cheatin' good-for-nothin' t'ief," he sighed. "More's de pity."

There was a few seconds pause, and Rogue's hurt feelings were replaced by fear. Since she couldn't see what was going on, the constant chatter had been somewhat of a comfort. The silence worried her.

"You know," Julien started up again, this time addressing Gambit. "If I didn' know you better, I'd say dat you were fallin' for de girl." Rogue couldn't see him, but she swore she heard a touch of regret in his voice when he continued. "Dat changes t'ings...maybe we'll let you live..."

He gently grasped Rogue's arm and whispered in her ear, "Under dif'rent circumstances, I'd a' taken you out for a good time...better den whatever LeBeau could offer. But dis is business, you understand." He raised his voice, "Remy here know why we're called de Rippers, but he's never had de pleasure of watchin' us in action."

"This girl ain't done nothin' to you...leave her alone," Gambit cried, and Rogue heard the sounds of a scuffle nearby.

"Ow." Rogue suddenly felt a sharp pain in her arm. "You people are messed up, you know that? What're you punishin' me for?"

"With regrets, I've decided de best way to make dis swamp rat suffer is to let him live with your blood on his hands."

"Nothin' like sacrificin' an innocent girl to get your revenge, huh?" she muttered.

"Strong t' de end...I respect dat."

"So you gonna let me go?"

"No...but I'll make it quick."

Her voice dripped with sarcasm. "Thanks."

There was another scuffle in front of her, but this time Gambit freed himself of his guards long enough to take a few steps forward and kiss Rogue. Her first kiss...her last. Too bad it was in the midst of this madness. Before his body hit the deck, she knew his plan as if it were hers. Two short statements echoed in her mind over and over. "Take it. Use it. Take it. Use it." He must've been repeating it in his own mind as he kissed her in the hopes that the idea would take root in hers. Of course, Rogue would've figured it out on her own, if given the opportunity, but this was no time to nitpick.  
"You may have knocked him out to save him de pain of watchin' you die," Julien said, moving away from her, "but you've only prolonged your suffering. We'll wait 'til he regains consciousness before we continue."

Gambit was right - the Rippers didn't know the extent of her powers...they thought she could bring unconsciousness to her victims, nothing more. Rogue stepped over his body and crouched down. She had already used his powers to charge the ropes around her bare wrists. Although she had successfully freed her hands, because she wasn't used to his powers, she had put too much energy into charging the bindings, and had burned herself. She bit her lip to prevent from crying out, and decided to take off her blindfold the old fashioned way when the time was right. Along with his insistence to take and use his powers, Rogue also learned where Gambit kept his deck of cards and staff.

The Rippers had begun to argue amongst themselves, and Rogue took advantage of the situation to blindly rifle through his coat behind her back, and easily found both objects. Once she had them in her left hand, she stood, and things moved quickly.

She ripped off the blindfold with her right hand, and tucking the staff under her arm, expertly fanned out the deck of cards in her left hand. Plucking several from the deck, she charged them and threw them at the group of Rippers.

One of the Rippers saw what was coming, but it was too late. The cards exploded at their feet, sending members of the New Orleans gang in all directions. Rogue slipped the unused cards into the waistband of her skirt, and expanded the staff. She moved swiftly, incapacitating each man with a good smack to the head. She wasn't quite quick enough, however, and before she reached Julien, he had thrown Remy overboard.

"You're gonna pay for that," she said, using the staff to knock him onto the ground. She pulled off a glove and touched his face. He was out cold in a matter of seconds. Rogue knew that she had to work fast, but she wasn't about to dive in after Gambit with these fools loose...she grabbed a measure of rope that was lying on deck, and did her best to tie the Rippers together in the shortest time possible. It would have to do for now.

"You've gotta be kidding me," she mumbled to herself before diving in the lake. It was cold, which brought relief to her throbbing wrists...but the particles of sand suspended in the water reduced her visibility to next to nothing. She swam straight down, reasoning that Gambit would sink right to the bottom. After twenty seconds she began to panic...she didn't see him yet, and was going to have to go back to the surface to take a breath soon. But she pressed forward, assuming that he had yet to regain consciousness and was inadvertently breathing in water. Lady Luck must've been one of the few women Gambit had made a good impression on, because after another few seconds had passed, she could make out the outline of his body. She grabbed him by the armpits and furiously kicked towards the surface. With ten feet left to go, Gambit came to. His back was to Rogue, so he struggled against her at first, but by the time their heads emerged, he realized who his savior was. As Gambit coughed up water, she charged the ropes binding his wrists, and he removed the strange mitts the Rippers had thrust over his hands.

"An' here I thought you were mad at me," he gasped.

"Ah only saved you so ah can kill you later," she replied after catching her breath. "Come on, ah didn't do such a good job tyin' those guys up."

They swam over to the boat and climbed aboard. Rogue was right, her knot-tying skills left much to be desired...but her fighting abilities more than made up for it - only one of the four men was awake, and his brain's higher functions weren't working yet. While Gambit searched the Rippers for hidden weapons and tied them up properly, Rogue steered the boat back to the dock. They loaded the car with the men in silence...saving the place of honor - the trunk - for Julien himself.

On the way back to Bayville, no more than two words were spoken. Not even their captives uttered a sound. Gambit drove them to the train station, loading the men onto a nearly empty boxcar. When he was finished, he walked over to Rogue, who was leaning against the wall of the station with her arms crossed.

"I'm gonna take them back to New Orleans," he told her. "An' maybe I'll settle this once an' for all."

"Do what you like, ah just stayed to make sure you got them on the train..."

"Rogue, I..."

"Don't," she said, backing away from his outstretched hand.

"I'll come back."

"Ah don't care what you do...ah'm goin' home."

She turned around and started walking away.

"I'll be back..." he called after her. "An' we'll talk about it."

She stopped walking, but didn't turn around. "Stay away from me. Ah don't wanna have anythin' to do with you."

Gambit sighed and shook his head. He didn't have time to argue with her now, the train was about to leave. Maybe that was a good thing...it would give her a chance to cool off before he tried to explain himself. He jumped into the car and pulled out a deck of cards. As he began a game of solitaire, Julien spoke for the first time since the tables had turned.

"You've lost her forever, LeBeau."

"You don' know nothin' Julien."

"She'll never forgive you for dis..."

It was going to be a long ride.

* * *

**Epilogue**

Rogue called Logan and asked him to pick her up.

He didn't say anything...not about her torn sleeve with the blood on it, not about the fact that she was only wearing one sandal, not about the her still damp hair and clothes. When he saw the look on her face, he decided to leave things alone. She asked him to stop by The Dungeon so she could recover her backpack, and thanked him for coming to get her when they arrived at the mansion, but that was all.

When they got home, she calmly walked up to her room, and locked the door behind her. Her anger grew with each passing second. She didn't know what to do with herself...her rage was rapidly dissolving any rational thought she had left...she walked over to her dresser and with one swoop of her hand, knocked everything off it before pounding her fists into it several times.

That bastard, dragging her along on one of his misadventures just so she could save him from his ex-girlfriend's angry brother. Her new shirt was ruined, sliced and stained where Julien had cut her...Kitty's "dry-clean only" skirt was probably beyond hope now that she went swimming in it...she lost one of her sandals in the lake...she wasted a whole day, most of which she spent bound and blindfolded...and worst of all, she had absorbed Julien's thoughts.

Rogue had already been disturbed by what had been revealed on the boat...but when she got a taste of Julien's hatred for Remy, it was a miracle she didn't let the Cajun rot in his watery grave. And the more time that passed, the angrier she got, until she couldn't separate Julien's feelings from her own. In a kind of insane fury, she reached up, ripped her treasured Queen of Heart's card from its place on her mirror, and tore it into tiny shreds that she threw into the air. She heard herself laugh as the snow that had once been a cherished gift fluttered jerkily to the floor.

She picked up some of the larger objects she had knocked off her dresser and began to throw them at her mirror.

"Jacqueline....Veronique...Antoinette..."

She had started quietly, but with each name Rogue's voice rose. She continued throwing things at the mirror.

"Simone...Anna Marie..."

By now she was yelling. She had run out of ammunition. "Belladonna!!!!!!!!" she screamed, running over to the mirror and putting her fist to the already cracked glass. By some miracle, most of the mirror remained in its mount, but it was irrevocably damaged. Rogue looked up at her reflection, broken and distorted in the shards of glass. Hot, indignant tears she had been holding back began to spill down her cheeks...

But she refused to yield. She took a deep breath; he would not get the better of her. She wouldn't let him. Even as the tears continued to fall, she rebuilt the walls around her heart. "Never again," she promised herself.

* * *

(1) - Excerpt from _Harder to Breathe_, by Maroon 5 


	3. Someday

**Part 3 - Someday**

****

_Nothing's wrong  
Just as long as you know that someday I will -  
Someday, somehow,  
I´m gonna make it alright, but not right now  
I know you´re wondering when..._ (1)

Remy LeBeau, known only as Gambit to many, returned to Bayville exactly 11 days after the fall of Apocalypse. There were things he had to deal with back home before he could finally leave his past behind him and start fresh. Now that everything was settled, or, at least, as settled as it could be, he had come back to the place where the change in him began, hoping beyond hope that the young woman who inspired his sudden moral and ethical growth would be ready to give him another chance.

Gambit spent his first day back trying to find out what Rogue's present state of mind was, and in the process, learned the details of the battle with Apocalypse, and the last, desperate attempt to stop him lead by his girl. _"My girl?"_ he scolded himself. _"Homme, dat girl belongs t' no man."_

His pride was a little wounded by the fact that no one had sought him out to lend a hand...even if Rogue was mad at him, _someone_ should've thought of asking him. His only comfort came from the idea that someone must have considered him, but he was so deep in the backwaters of the bayou that they had been unable to locate him in time. Still...they had managed to track down Colossus somewhere in the far reaches of Russia...

He shook such thoughts out of his head. There was no point in worrying about it now. His time would be better spent finding Rogue and learning where he stood with her. That night, he snuck onto the Institute's grounds, avoiding each and every motion sensor, security camera, and all other defensive measures with little effort. The security system was more intricate than typical home systems, specially designed by the professor and Logan, but Gambit was trained to find the weaknesses in all systems, and after he had studied the grounds in detail over the course of several weeks, he was able to come and go as he pleased without being noticed.

He made his way across the lawn to the tree nearest Rogue's bedroom window, which wasn't all that close to the mansion at all. Closer trees had been obliterated a year ago when Mystique had blown up the original building. After climbing the tree and making himself comfortable on a sturdy limb, Gambit reached into coat and pulled out the pair of binoculars he had lifted from an annoying tourist down south. Yes, even on this warm June night, he was not without his trusty trench coat.

He brought the binoculars to his eyes and frowned. The lights were out in her room - nobody's home. Placing the strap over his head, he let the binoculars hang around his neck while he reached into another pocket for a pack of cigarettes. It was a nasty habit, he knew, one that he purposely avoided when he was around Rogue. He was actually on the road to quitting, but a combination of boredom and anxiety prompted him to seek solace in the mentholated nicotine.

He was halfway through his second cigarette before someone turned on the light in the room in question. He extinguished what was left of it and flicked its remains to the ground before peering through the binoculars. There she was, pale as a ghost, pacing around the room in her pajamas. She looked troubled, but that wasn't exactly unusual for a girl who absorbed the memories of others with a simple touch. When she suddenly disappeared from view, Gambit assumed that she had thrown herself onto her bed in frustration...but something about the act troubled him, so he decided to move in and get a closer look.

He jumped down from the tree, ran across the lawn, extended his staff, and used it to catapult himself into the air. Catching her windowsill with his right hand, he collapsed his staff with his left and stuck it back in his pocket. Using both hands, he pulled himself up and peered in. Something was very wrong here. He pushed up the window - _"She still doesn't lock it,"_ he thought with a smile - then the screen, and slipped in.

Only Rogue's head and arm rested on the bed. The rest of her was awkwardly sprawled on the floor. She hadn't done this herself...she had collapsed. Gambit picked her up and gently laid her on the bed. She was breathing ok, but the fact that she didn't stir when he moved her was a source of concern. He put the palm of his hand on her forehead, and his uneasiness grew. Even through his gloves he could tell that she was burning up.

"Rogue...?" he said, shaking her.

No response.

This was not good...she needed help, fast. His mind sprung into action, switching to attack mode - the one he used during complicated break-ins and difficult confrontations. Running out into the hall from her room would do more harm than good...the disturbance it would cause amongst the X-Men and the questions he would be subjected to would devour precious seconds.

A different course of action was called for, and in a matter of seconds, he had exited the room through the window, and was ringing the bell at the front door.

"Coming," a sweet, female voice called as footsteps and muffled conversation approached. The woman had begun to laugh at something her companion said as she opened the door. She assumed the person on the other side would be one of her teammates' friends who had been buzzed in at the gate, but what she found was an Acolyte standing on her doorstep.

Jean Grey's smile faded quickly. She instinctively stopped the door where it was, keeping it partially between them. "Can I help you?"

"Who is it?" a man asked, opening the door wider. When he saw Gambit, his had flew to his glasses, preparing to raise them. "What do _you_ want?"

Gambit would have been amused by Scott's response if he didn't have more pressing matters on his mind. "Somethin's wrong with Rogue, you gotta help her."

His words were directed at Jean, who took them seriously, but Scott put an arm protectively around his girlfriend and answered Gambit before she could get a word out. "And how would you know..."

"Look," he began, ignoring Scott, "you need t' jump in my head an' read my t'oughts, fine, but make it quick."

Jean closed her eyes for several seconds. When she opened them again, whatever suspicion had been in them was gone. "Come with me," she said, stepping aside to let him in.

"Jean, what...?"

"Professor's orders," she replied, cutting him off and breaking away from his embrace. "Let's go."

Gambit followed her up the stairs and down the hall, with Scott close behind, complaining under his breath all the while. "Are you kidding me? This guy works for Magneto...he could be using this as a ruse to learn the layout of the mansion..."

"Enough, Scott," she scolded, stopping in front of Rogue's door. She once again turned to Gambit. "Beast and the professor are in there now...they'll be out in a few minutes."

Gambit leaned against the opposite wall impatiently, Jean stood next to Rogue's door with a touch of concern on her beautiful face, and Scott did his best to make it clear that this house, and this woman, were his. But he could care less about Scott's posturing...there was no need for him to mark his territory, Gambit knew he didn't belong there. And as for Jean, as powerful and lovely as she may be, she had no je ne se quios...she couldn't hold a candle to the rogue.

Several years passed in that hallway, waiting for the two men to appear from behind door number one. When Beast and Professor X finally emerged from Rogue's room, their expressions told Gambit all he needed to know. "She's in trouble, ain't she?"

"It appears that she's in the final stages of Strep Throat...she's on the brink of Scarlet Fever. Her temperature is dangerously high and she's dehydrated," the professor explained calmly.

"We took a throat culture," Beast continued, opening his hand to reveal a closed petrii dish, "and we should have the results in 10 minutes, but it's just a formality. It's definitely Strep. We can give her something to bring the fever down, but we don't have the necessary antibiotics on the premises."

"Gambit..." the professor began, but the Cajun didn't wait for him to finish.

"I'm on it..."

"No." He grabbed Gambit's arm before he could run off. "Listen to what I have to say." Surprised at the older man's strength, he relaxed and looked at him expectantly. "Here is what you need to get - I've written down the kind of antibiotic, the dosage, the number of pills, and included an alternate drug in the event the drug store doesn't have the first. I'm also giving you some money." He handed over a piece of paper and a small wad of money. "When you take the antibiotic, please leave the money with a description of what you've taken."

Gambit almost laughed at the money, and had to remind himself that the X-Men were an altogether different breed than he was used to dealing with. "Dat all?"

The professor nodded. Before anyone could stop him, he opened Rogue's door, flew through her room, dove out her still-open window, and disappeared into the night. Scott ran after him, and shook his head in annoyance. _"Showoff,"_ he thought, closing the window before rejoining the others in the hall.

Beast was gone, and Jean and the professor were taking quietly. "Was that really necessary?"

"Think about it for a minute - can we take Rogue to a doctor?" Jean asked. "He'd wear gloves, of course, but if his unexposed wrist brushed against her skin, he'd be out like a light." She paused and inadvertently shivered. "And with all the mutant haters out there, if we tried explaining her powers to them, most doctors would probably refuse to see her."

"Probably? Is 'probably' a good enough reason to steal?"

"I understand your concern, Scott, but under the circumstances, I think this is the best course of action," the professor replied. "Time is critical at the moment, we don't have the luxury of leisurely searching for a doctor who is sympathetic to mutants. As soon as her condition is stable, I'll have to look into a doctor for all of you. Quite frankly, this has been an oversight on my part...injuries have been our only concern so far, and those can be easily attended to by Logan, Ororo, Hank, or myself. No one has suffered from a serious illness, and it only occurs to me now that it's necessary to secure a doctor who wouldn't object to treating those whose mutations are not so easily concealed."

Scott opened his mouth to speak, but the professor raised a hand to stop him. "To tell you the truth, I'd rather ask Logan if he'd let Rogue absorb his powers - his healing factor should be able to stop the infection - but he's off on an assignment and I haven't been able to reach him." He paused, tenting his hands. "Besides, Gambit's feelings for Rogue, and his intentions in regards to her, appear to be honorable. I don't think we could find anyone more devoted to her cause."

Scott wouldn't allow himself to believe such a thing was possible...Kitty and Lance was one thing - the Brotherhood was nothing more than a bunch of low lifes dedicated to causing trouble. They never did anything particularly bad, they were just annoying. But one of the X-Men having a relationship with an Acolyte, even worse, Magneto's right hand man, was something entirely different. Aside from Piotr, who was a gentle giant blackmailed into joining, the Acolytes were a bunch of violent, dangerous, out-and-out villains.

He stormed away, leaving Jean and the professor to discuss what arrangements should be made.

* * *

Hours later, Scott shifted in the chair next to Rogue's bed. In the end, they had decided not to move her to the infirmary, though they did attach an IV to her arm to help replace fluids and bring her fever down. Scott figured it was working since they were able to wake her up and get her to swallow one of the pills Gambit brought back.

He was determined to sit with Rogue throughout the night, despite Jean's insistence that he go to bed. Rogue had done so much for both him and Jean that he thought it was the least he could to do keep her company when she was sick. Especially with Logan off on an assignment, and Kurt visiting his parents. Especially with the thief in the room.

Gambit sat in the darkest corner, his head back against the wall in silent contemplation of sleeping beauty and her guardian thug. This Scott guy really had to lighten up. Couldn't he see that there was no hidden agenda in his desire to help Rogue?

In the dim light of her bedside lamp, Rogue's face was peaceful to the point of resembling a corpse. He had been brushing up on his Edgar Allen Poe recently - he noticed her collection of his works on a previous visit - and was reminded of the story "The Fall of the House of Usher." Rogue was playing the role of Madeline, who suffered from an illness that made her appear dead...so her brother accidentally buries her alive. But despite the absence of the steady beeps of a heart monitor, Gambit wasn't overly concerned. Even from his distance, if he looked hard enough, he could detect the soft rise and fall of the covers that coincided with her every breath. Besides, he did not smell death in the room tonight. He closed his eyes against unwanted memories _that_ smell brought with it. Yes...he knew it well. But it was not here.

While her friends guarded her against nonexistent threats, Rogue, though she appeared tranquil, was tormented by twisted dreams. Her temperature had decreased significantly since Gambit had initially found her, but the images inspired by her fevered mind continued to haunt her dreams. She had momentarily awoke when Gambit ran through her room on the way to get her medicine, and in a delirium, saw only the glowing red eyes of a demon that fed on the blood of innocents, complete with a long black cape flapping behind him as he flew past her and out the window.

Since then she found herself in a fantastic tale worthy of Charlotte Bronte...full of gothic romance and intrigue. She was still Rogue, but now she was a lonely heiress who rarely ventured beyond the walls of her extravagant mansion, afraid that she'd accidentally brush into someone, and expose her terrible secret. But when a mysterious stranger asked for shelter on a dark and stormy night, she was unable to turn him away. The storm raged on for days, and was followed by the appearance of a thick opaque mist that prevented him from leaving still.

It was only a matter of days before his charms tore down the barriers she spent her life building up...but as the seduction progressed, Rogue found herself pulling away despite her feelings for him. When he finally convinced her to tell him why, he shared his own secret with her - he was a vampire. He'd been watching her for a long time, and had decided to make her his mate. Because he was already dead, she couldn't absorb him...and what's more, if she becomes a vampire too, she would gain control over her powers.

She was reluctant to enter into any kind of arrangement with him, but her growing affections for him and her desperation to rid herself of her self-imposed solitude, overruled her good judgment. By the light of the moon, he made her his forever.

But her decision was hasty. She had given way to her emotions, and now she had to pay the price. Her companion had neglected to mention several important consequences of her transition - namely that she could never again venture out in sunlight, and would constantly be plagued by a thirst for blood that could never be quenched. And so she found herself isolated still, trapped in the shadows of her home until nightfall, at which point she would lurk in those same shadows as she searched for victims. She never killed her prey, though, and preferred to drink from those who she deemed cruel and unkind...stalking people for several nights and observing their actions before she'd strike, using her powers to knock them out before she sampled the metallic sweetness running through their veins.

Her companion, however, had his own hunting methods. Her heart ached every time his craving for blood tore him from her arms...he would seduce beautiful young women and drink their blood once they passed out from the special kind of exhaustion that followed passionate bedroom recreation. Rogue asked him time and again to change his ways, but old habits die hard. This was the way he'd always done it, and he stubbornly refused to change. Besides, these girls meant nothing to him. _She_ was the one he'd chosen to be his bride, _she_ was the only one he loved..._she_ was the only person he'd ever made a vampire.

But Rogue's suspicions could not be dispelled...and although her companion should have made an effort to try another technique, his devotion to her was so obvious that even the most casual observer would've been able to see it. With each passing day she became more and more desperate to secure his love...until she finally decided that if she could not have him in life, she would have him in death.

She waited until the full moon had climbed high in the sky to hike up the mountain facing the sea. The wind clawed at her hair and skirts, imploring her to change her mind, but she ignored them. She didn't even pause to reconsider when she reached the top, she simply threw herself over the edge and prayed that the jagged rocks below would do more than just break her body...she wanted one to pierce her heart. If not, she would patiently wait for the sun to rise and turn her to dust.

The fall lasted much longer than she'd expected...it almost felt like she was flying...

Rogue woke up before she reached the bottom. She laid in her bed for several minutes, slowly collecting her thoughts. The first thing that struck her was the fact that her throat was killing her, followed shortly thereafter by the details of her dream. When she had finished considering its implications, she looked around and noticed Scott dozing in what looked like a very uncomfortable position in a chair next to her bed.

She tried to call out to him, but her voice came out like a dying frog's last croak. "Scott..."

He immediately woke up and looked down at his patient. "So, you've decided come back to us...but even with all the trouble you've caused, 'you _are_ like an angel, Kate'." (2)

She smiled with pleasure at the memory...it was the first time they had ever worked together on a school assignment, though not by choice, back before she had joined the X-Men...it seemed like such a long time ago. If she still had a crush on him, Rogue would've read a lot into the fact that he still remembered his lines from the play they'd been studying. But things were different now...she saw him as a friend and nothing more. "What happened?"

"You're too stubborn for your own good, that's what happened. Next time you don't feel well, do us all a favor and tell someone. The longer you wait, the longer it'll take you to get better."

She nodded, and a few seconds passed before she spoke again. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"Stayin' with me."

"Well," he began hesitantly, "I'm not the only one..."

She followed his gaze across the room, but couldn't see anyone in the pre-dawn darkness. Still, she had an idea who it was. "Gambit?"

Scott nodded in confirmation.

"Remy..." she called as loud as she could. A dark lump in the corner moved and walked over into the small circle of light surrounding her bed. Scott stood and stretched before walking over to the window. It was his way of giving the couple - he didn't want to use this particular world to describe Rogue and Gambit, but he knew it applied - some privacy without leaving Rogue solely in Gambit's hands.

Rogue pushed herself up into a sitting position as Gambit approached. "How ya doin'?" He asked softly, gently.

She moved to speak, but no words made it past her lips. She motioned for him to come closer, and he leaned forward.

What happened next would become a source of amusement to the X-Men when the story was told and retold at future parties and reunions...as a matter of fact, Gambit became the butt of many jokes for a long time after Rogue recovered. But here and now, as the events unfolded, there was only anger, hurt feelings, and surprise.

Rogue punched Gambit square in the jaw.

She was actually aiming for his nose, but her reflexes were off...in the end, she got her desired result. Even in her weakened condition, she managed to make Gambit stumble backwards - though it had more to do with the unexpectedness of the blow and their brief skin-to-skin contact than the strength of the attack.

Gambit tripped over his own feet and fell. With the last of her strength, Rogue flung herself out of bed and crawled over to where he was sitting, still stunned over what had happened in the past few seconds. Even with her head crammed with cotton and the world spinning, she knew exactly what she wanted to say.

"How dare you show your face here," she hissed, "after all you've done."

He didn't move. He didn't breathe. He just watched her still green eyes glow with the fury of his powers...she was beautiful when she was angry. But then he noticed the plastic tube leading from her arm to the IV, and the IV itself, begin to glow as well. Without realizing it, she had accidentally charged something that she didn't know was attached to her body.

Scott was still standing by the window, ready to step in if he was needed, but willing to wait for that time to come. Rogue was doing just fine without him. Gambit grabbed the charged tube and ripped it from her arm. He tried to remove the charge, but apparently only the one who charged it could take it away.

"Cyclops, window," he instructed, and Scott responded immediately. Gambit threw the entire apparatus out the window, and a small explosion followed shortly thereafter.

Gambit moved to help Rogue back into bed, but she swung at him again. This time he was ready for a violent reaction and avoided the blow easily.

"Don't touch me," she warned, struggling to stand on her own. With as much dignity as she could muster, and with careful steps, she made her way back to her bed and laid down.

Scott watched in confusion as Gambit kept his distance, but held his hand out behind her back, ready to catch her if she fell. This was not something he'd expect from a hardened criminal.

"Get out," she muttered, closing her eyes. "Now."

"I think you better leave," Scott said, though his voice was not as hard as it had been before.

"Jus' wanted t' make sure you were all right," he said nonchalantly, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened, and walked out.

She was infuriated with him. He didn't get mad...he didn't storm out...hell, he wasn't even embarrassed by his momentary loss of grace. Nothing bothered this guy. More than anything, she wanted to make him feel the way he made her feel - angry, lost, alone, confused - and here he was, more confident than ever. She covered her head with her blankets and prayed for the blissful ignorance of sleep to sweep her away.

* * *

Several hours later, she awoke. Rogue had been blessed with a dreamless sleep, so she didn't have to analyze the smoke and mirrors of the inner depths of her mind upon waking. Instead she could focus on the very real problems surrounding her.

She glanced around her room. The chair beside her bed had long been empty, though a fresh jug of ice water and a glass stood on her night stand. They must have been placed there recently, as beads of water were only just beginning to condense on the outside of the pitcher. So she was alone, but not forgotten.

As much as she appreciated Scott's devotion, she was glad he was gone so she could ponder her situation in solitude. Her situation...her problems...it was all just a nice way of saying that her life was messed up, seemingly perpetually so. Rogue's life had never been easy before her mutation had manifested itself...but afterwards, it became even harder. And since she met Gambit, she sometimes thought that things were getting worse.

But deep down she knew that none of that was true. Her life was hard, but whose wasn't? Being a mutant made her more of an outcast than she had been, but it also put her in contact with a group of people who had become like family to her. That was good. And with the professor's guidance, she was learning to make a difference in the world, something that she never would've considered before. So for all the bad, there was definitely some good.

The same could be said for Gambit. He watched out for her, and seemed to care about her...the problem was he didn't trust her. It was this lack of trust that hurt most of all. Once Julien's memories had faded, Rogue was forced to deal with her own anger over Remy's convenient omissions about his past. But she soon realized that his reluctance to trust her was not much different than her own indisposition to trust others.

Still a little hurt, still a little angry, she waited for Gambit to return. Even with Apocalypse's near-successful rise to power, the Cajun was never far from Rogue's mind. A month passed and he didn't come. Then another week. Then a couple days. She began to worry that he wouldn't come back to her. But even as her mind tried to convince her to give up, her heart whispered thoughts of hope and reconciliation. She knew he wouldn't give up on her so easily. He _would_ make his way back to her...it was just a matter of when.

And when he did, what was her response? She slugged him. Not that she regretted it. But thinking back to the night before, she thought that there may have been a better way of dealing with him. She tried to blame her dream about the red-eyed vampire that was as charming and treacherous as she feared Remy was, but this claim was false, and she knew it. She was still angry with him, and would stay angry until they sat down and talked about it. She couldn't forgive him until she heard the whole story.

The slow turning of her doorknob brought her back to reality. The door opened and Jean peeked in. "Hey...how are you feeling?"

Rogue waved her in; Jean left the door ajar behind her, walking across the room to the chair next to Rogue's bed and sitting down.

"Ah'm all right, ah guess." Her voice was still a little scratchy, but it was much clearer than last night. "Mah throat doesn't hurt so much, but that ain't sayin' a lot."

"Would you like something to drink?" Rogue nodded, and Jean continued talking as she poured her friend a glass of ice water and handed it over. "I finally chased Scott out of here a few hours ago...I didn't think you'd mind."

Rogue accepted the glass gratefully and took a long deep drink before responding. "Nah. Ah'm glad he was here when ah woke up the first time, but he wasn't doin' much good sittin' there watchin' me sleep."

Jean smiled. "That's what I tried to tell him...but you know how stubborn he can be."

"Yeah."

"But I promised him that I'd look in on you every so often while he got some sleep, so here I am."

"Thanks."

"Do you need anything? Are you hungry?"

"No...ah think tryin' to eat somethin' would just make mah throat hurt more...ah want to wait a few more hours before ah try swallowin' anythin' solid."

"Are you feeling well enough for visitors?"

Jean's expression changed slightly as she asked the question. She looked at Rogue with a mixture of understanding and amusement. "Depends on who."

Jean turned her hand palm up to show Rogue what she had been hiding from her - a King of Hearts card. Rogue grabbed the card, crumpled it, and threw it on the ground.

"Rogue..."

"Don't 'Rogue' me...ah don't wanna see him."

"You know, Gambit's not the only man who's ever done something stupid...in fact, guys always seem to know exactly how to get under a girl's skin. It must be genetic." Rogue went to speak, but Jean stopped her. "I know everyone thinks that Scott and I are the perfect couple," she leaned forward and lowered her voice, "but between you and me, he drives me crazy sometimes."

"Ah guarantee that Scott's never done anythin' like Remy has."

"Ok, I'll give you that...but isn't that part of why you like him?"

Damn. Jean was good at this. "Ah guess you got me there," Rogue said, pouting a little.

"Besides...hasn't he had enough punishment? From what I hear, you socked him pretty good..."

This time it was Rogue's turn to smile. "Scott told you about that?"  
"Even half-asleep he insisted on telling me all the details. When he gets up later, there's no doubt in my mind that tales of your sickbed valor will be told to anyone who will listen...Gambit will have a hard time living it down."

"Ah don't know..."

"If it's any help, I can always..."

"No." Rogue interrupted Jean before she could make the offer, but knew where the redhead was going. She had played around with asking Jean to take a peek into Remy's mind earlier, but ultimately decided against it. She didn't think it was right to have her friend sneak around his head without his permission. "If ah'm gonna learn to deal with him, it's gonna be without powers."

"Well, if you change your mind..." Jean said, a little hurt that Rogue once again pushed her away when all she wanted to do was help. But she knew where Rogue was coming from, so she let it be. "Should I call him in?"

Rogue nodded.

"Gambit..."

There was a pause, and then footsteps. When he got to her door, he stuck his head in. "Is it safe?"

"For the moment," Rogue grumbled.

"An' who could resist assurances like dat?" he asked Jean with a wink, opening the door and coming in.

"I'll be just down the hall if you need me," she said to Rogue. "And that goes for you too," she added, glancing at Gambit with twinkling eyes before leaving the room and closing the door behind her.

They stared at each other for several seconds before Rogue finally spoke. "Well...?" she asked, propping up her pillows so she could sit up.

"What do you want me t' say?"

She considered his question as she looked him over. He looked different. His hair was a little longer...and he was in civilian clothes for once - a black t-shirt with the sleeves rolled up a little, jeans, and black boots. Without his ever-present headgear, she could see more of his face...it was a handsome face, full of warmth, understanding, and mischief. "Ah don't know," she admitted. "Is there anythin' you want to say to me?"

There was so much to say that he wasn't sure where to begin. "How's de throat?"

Well...that was a start. "Ah swear, it feels like ah got razor blades in the back of my throat every time ah swallow."

"Maybe dis will help," he said, walking over to her bed and handing her a brown paper bag.

"What is it?"

"A peace offering."

Rogue opened the bag and pulled out a large cup and a straw. The coolness seeping through the paper felt good against her still slightly fevered skin. She popped open the flimsy plastic cover to inspect the cup's contents. "A milkshake?"

"I knew your throat must hurt somethin' fierce ...I t'ought somethin' cold might help. Hope you like chocolate..."

"Ah do," she replied, ripping the paper off the straw and sliding it into the frosty liquid delight. She took a long drink, savoring the ability to swallow without feeling like Freddy Krugger was ripping her throat apart. She couldn't suppress the satisfied sigh that escaped when her lips left the straw. "Thanks..."

"I bought a couple diff'rent flavors of ice cream an' brought 'em over...if you want any later, dey're in de freezer."

Ignoring the chair still beside her bed, Rogue scooted over to make room for him. "Sit."

He sat on the foot of her bed, with his elbows on his legs, bowed over so his head could rest in his hands. "Rogue, I don' know where t' even begin..."

"You could start with why you're talkin' with that ridiculous accent."

He raised his head and looked at her. "I didn' realize...dat's jus' a side effect of bein' back home for a while. It'll wear off soon enough."

"So, you've been in New Orleans all this time?"

He looked away. "I had t'ings t' do down dere."

"Still keepin' secrets," she sighed, shaking her head.

Gambit stood and walked over to her window. "Dose secrets are mine t' keep," he replied, looking at the Institute's grounds. "Dere's many t'ings I've done in my life dat I ain't proud of...but I'm tryin' t' change all dat. What can be amended, I'll do everyt'ing in my power t' make right...an'what can't be fixed will either be forgiven or not. But dere are some t'ings dat are inexcusable, dat will haunt me for de rest of my life."

"Ah don't believe that."

He looked at her and lowered his voice. "Believe it, cherie. Bein' a no good t'ief is de least of my worries."

She noticed his change of tone and backed off a little. "Even if ah believed what you just said, ah still have reason to complain. You don't tell me _anything_. If we're goin' to be..." she stopped herself and thought a moment. She would have to choose her words carefully. "If you an' ah are gonna do this - whatever this is - you gotta give a little."

"If I give, den you'll leave."

"Ah won't."

"Eventually, it'll be too much for you t' take, an' you'll leave."

"Remy..." she started, tapping the mattress next to her. He left the window and returned to his previous position at the foot of her bed, so close, yet so far. "You don't know that. An' you'll never know if you don't try. An' if you don't try, then we're finished before we've begun."

He couldn't look at her...she was not naive by any stretch of the imagination, but compared to him she was as innocent as a newborn. She thought his deceptions had limits...and maybe they did now. But there was a time when there was no low he wouldn't stoop to. "Den maybe it's better not t' begin."

Rogue didn't know how to respond to that, so she sat in silence, drinking her milkshake. Gambit studied his reflection in the recently replaced mirror. His typically easy, carefree expression had left him for parts unknown...now he looked tired, defeated...older than his 22 years...but then something in the frame of the mirror caught his eye. He got up and walked over to her dresser to examine it more closely. Rogue watched him take the beat up, heavily taped Queen of Hearts card from its place; he stared at it for several seconds before lifting his eyes to meet hers.

"Ah tore it up," she admitted sheepishly as a means of explanation. "Ah was angry. Ah don't know why ah didn't throw the pieces away...." She paused out of embarrassment. "Actually, ah sat on the floor and carefully separated the shreds of paper from the shards of glass...ah didn't put it back together for a few days...but when ah was calmer, ah took 'em out and put 'em together best ah could." She held out her hand, and he walked over and placed the card in it. "Then ah used a ton of Scotch tape, and voilla, good as new."

"Shards of glass?"

"Oh...ah broke the mirror too."

He glanced at the mirror, and then back at her. "Remind me not t' get you mad again." He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a deck of cards. "Here," he said, handing her a pristine Queen of Hearts.

"No."

"What?"

"Ah mean, thanks, but no. Ah want this one. To remind me that things can be fixed."

He took the taped card from her hand and went back to her dresser. He put his deck next to her hairbrush, and placed both Queen of Hearts on the side of her mirror, one just above the other. "Keep both...one for de good times, an' one for the bad."

"That mean we're gonna give this a try?"

"Whatever dis is..." he replied, sitting next to her.

"So you gonna fess up an' tell me what you've done."

"Not today," he said quietly. "Someday, maybe. But dis ain't de right time."

"Ah guess that'll have to do....for now." Rogue didn't want to pry any further, not now anyway, so she decided to let it drop. Almost. "How about the things ah already know? Care to explain what Julien was kind enough to share?"

"Ah've known many girls, cherie. Most didn' mean much t' me...Julien was right, I used dem. I have no excuse."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"It's not exactly de kind of t'ing you begin a relationship with...'oh, by de way, I'm quite de ladies man, in fact, I've had more women than you can imagine. I didn' care about any of dem, though. I care about you.' Somehow I don' t'ink you'd take dat well."

_"Ah've had more women than you can imagine,"_ she thought to herself. "Ah'm still not takin' it well." She locked eyes with him before she continued. "Are you usin' me? Am ah nothin' but the sum of mah powers?"

"De truth?"

She nodded.

"Maybe at first," he admitted, wounding her slightly. "But from de start, dere was somethin' about you dat pulled me in. Even when I was gonna try t' talk you into joining Magneto, dere was somethin' diff'rent 'bout de way I t'ought about you. Dere were...boundaries....dere were t'ings I knew I wouldn't do. Not t' you."

"An' now?"

"Now de only time I'm concerned with your powers is when I want t' kiss you."

For the first time in what seemed like ages, Rogue felt a steady stream of warmth move across her cheeks, and she turned away. Gambit smiled and gave her a moment to recover before making the obligatory obnoxious remark. "Don' fret, chere, at least now you don' look like you're dyin'..."

Realization struck just as her normal color was beginning to return, resulting in a fresh splash of pink. "Oh, God, ah'm not wearin' any makeup, am ah?"

"Hate t' break it t' you, but you're sick...sick girls don' wear makeup."

"Ah want to die," she muttered, laying down and pulling the covers over her head.

"C'mon, dere's nothin' t' be ashamed of..."

"For a guy whose 'had' so many girls, you sure don't know anythin' about them..."

Gambit gently lifted the covers and peered under them at her. "You're not enterin' de Miss America contest, Rogue, you're gettin' over bein' sick and restin' in your pajamas. No big deal."

"Ah must look awful," she complained, covering her face with her hands.

"T' be honest, you've look better," he admitted, "but I wouldn't say you look _awful_. Now why don' you come out from under dere and join Gambit in de real world?"

"How could a girl resist a ringing endorsement like that?" she asked, pulling the blankets down.

"No more den a guy could resist the charms of a sick, grumpy rogue."

"So are we...?"

"Do you need t' ask?"

Rogue's heart skipped a beat at his confirmation, though she wasn't quite sure what to do next. "So, what now?"

"In addition t' ice cream, I rented some movies 'cause I didn' t'ink you'd be in de condition t' do much else."

"Aren't we the clever one?"

"Clever _and_ thoughtful."

"Modest too."

"De perfect gentleman..." He smiled, brushing a lock of hair out of her face. "Would you care t' accompany me t' de living room where we can consume large bowls of ice cream an' take in a movie or two?"

"Ah'd be delighted," she laughed.

* * *

Three hours later found them on the couch in front of the TV, their empty bowls stacked neatly on the coffee table. Wrapped in a blanket, Rogue was lying across the couch asleep, her head resting in Gambit's lap. Oblivious to the fact that the movie was long over, Remy gently stroked her hair while she slept, memorizing the lines of her face.

He heard footsteps approach, but ignored them until the figure spoke. "How's the kid doin'?"

"Better," Gambit replied without looking up.

Logan entered the room and sat on the chair adjacent to the couch. When he had finally received the professor's messages, he came right back. On the way, he managed to talk to Charles, and found out that Rogue was already recovering...nonetheless, he wanted to survey the situation himself. He wasn't exactly thrilled to find Gambit there, as he was still unsure of the Cajun's intentions towards the X-Men in general, and Rogue in particular. Particularly after Rogue's still unexplained temper tantrum had resulted in a broken mirror. But watching Gambit watch Rogue made his heart warm up to him. A little. "I heard you played a big part in gettin' her that way."

"It was nothin'."

Logan watched his fingers weave through her hair. "Shouldn't you be wearin' gloves?"

Gambit looked up, surprised at the question. "I'm bein' careful." He stared at Logan for a few seconds before his gaze returned to Rogue's face. "'Sides...it's worth de risk, no?"

Just then Rogue flinched, moaned, and turned her head to the side, narrowly missing Gambit's bare hand. Her dreams had made a turn for the worse, and she began to fight against an unseen foe, becoming more frantic as she got tangled in her blanket.

Logan came over and knelt beside her. He shook her gently. "Rogue...wake up."

Her eyes opened to reveal a cornered animal, and she raised an arm, ready to strike. Logan grabbed it with his gloved hand, and put her arm back down by her side. "It was a dream."

"An' a violent one at dat...wanna share with de class?"

She closed her eyes and tried to concentrate. Most of the dream was a blur that escaped as soon as she awoke...but she remembered a short conversation between a man and a woman...

_"I don' think I like this idea."_

_"You got anythin' better up your sleeve?"_

_"Can't say that I do..."_

_"...trust me...."_

"I can't remember," she said, opening her eyes again.

"Well, it's only a dream," Logan replied.

Rogue nodded, and began to ask Logan about his mission. Now that she was safe and surrounded by friends, she tried to brush the dream aside. But somewhere, in the furthest corners of her mind, that partially remembered conversation nagged at her...

* * *

(1) - Excerpt from _Someday_, by Nickelback 

(2) - Excerpt from _Henry V_, by William Shakespeare, as quoted in "Mutant Crush"


	4. O Fortuna

**Part 4 - O Fortuna**

"Can't you talk to him? Ah mean, you used to be teammates, right?"

Gambit grabbed Rogue's arm and pulled her down so she was sitting on the ground next to him. They had been running through the forest forever, and he thought that they might have lost their pursuer. "He's not really the talkin' type."

"But you were friends..." she insisted.

"Teammates, yes. Friends...I don' think John has any friends. 'Sides, he's probably still mad at me..."

"An' what did ya do to _him_ that got him all fired up?" Rogue asked, smiling at her little pun.

"He started it," Gambit began, "he was the one laughin' at everyone else's reactions on the tape, I just pointed out that he didn't do much better."

"What tape?"

The tape he was speaking of was old news - it was one of the security tapes from the Acolytes' warehouse...the one that documented Rogue, under Mesmero's power, taking them all out in a matter of minutes. Now that Gambit thought about it, he wasn't sure how much Rogue remembered about the incident, if anything at all. And though he assumed someone must have told her what happened, no one, save the Acolytes themselves, knew the details of her encounter with them. So she didn't realize that she stole his powers with a kiss... "It's a long story," he finally replied, and was saved by the faint sound of maniacal laughter in the distance.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are..." the voice called, "or I might just have to start a little forest fire..."

"He's crazy enough to do it too," Gambit muttered, and they both rose.

"Ah don't like runnin'."

"Don' like it myself, chere, but we don' have much choice...anythin' I charge an' throw, Pyro will burn up before it explodes, an' you'd be a crispy critter 'fore you could get close enough to use your powers."

"So runnin' it is," she sighed, and the two began to once again weave through the trees because they could think of no better solution to their problem. They ran in silence for a few minutes, until Rogue's vision started to fail her. At first things became fuzzy around the edges, but the blur continued to invade her line of sight, until the world disappeared into darkness. She continued to run regardless, and without complaint, until she inevitably tripped on a root or rock she couldn't see. She instinctively threw her hands out in front of her, and the thick brown gloves of her uniform took the brunt of her impact.

She felt Gambit's hand on her arm seconds later. "You ok?"

"Gambit, ah..." she didn't want to tell him, but there was no way to avoid it "...ah can't see."

Without missing a beat, he threw her over his shoulder and started to jog. His shoulder jabbed into her abdomen with every step, but she held her tongue. Aside from the horror of her sudden blindness, Rogue was mortified that she had gone from an asset to a burden in such a short period of time, and was trying to think of a better way to handle the situation when her vision cleared, in a manner of speaking. In her mind's eye, three separate scenarios played out before her - in one, she and Gambit stood their ground against Pyro; in the next, they simply surrendered to him; in the third, they kept running until they reached a cliff...and then they jumped off.

Although she didn't witness the outcomes of these possibilities, she instinctively knew which path they had to take. She blinked, and there was the ground rushing beneath her.

"You can put me down now," she said, straightening up.  
Gambit stopped and slid her down his body. "Your eyes workin' again?"

"Yeah."

He let go and took a few steps back. "How many fingers?" he asked, holding up three fingers.

"This is no time for games," she said, batting his hand away. "Anyway, ah got an idea..."

"So do I," he jumped in. "It's a long shot, but if one of us distracts him, the other might be able to get a drop on him."

Rogue shook her head. "It won't work."

"The odds are against it, but..."

"It won't work," she repeated.

Gambit was annoyed at her response. "How do you know?"

"Ah just know."

She seemed so sure of herself that he decided to hear her out. "So what's your idea?"

"In a few minutes we'll reach a clearing, an' after that a cliff..."

He knew what she was going to say before she said it. "I don' think I like this plan..."

"You got anythin' better up your sleeve?"

"Can't say that I do."

"Then let's go."

And so they resumed their race against the Australian pyromaniac. Just as she had predicted, the trees thinned until they reached a clearing with a distinctive upward slant. They were nearly at the top when Rogue glanced over at her companion and saw his understandably worried expression. She slowed down to a walk and Gambit followed suit.

"Changed your mind?" he asked hopefully.

"No such luck." She stopped walking and turned to face him. "Trust me," she said, looking him in the eye.

"I'll always trust you, Rogue."

Gambit's words should have made all the difference. Since recovering from her bout with Strep Throat, their relationship had been put on hold. In her weakened condition, Rogue opened up to him a little, and he thought she was finally beginning to let him in...but as soon as her strength returned, the door to her heart was slammed in his face. He knew she was going to be a challenge from the start, however, and was determined to find a way in, no matter how long it took. In an attempt to gain her trust, he resisted his instincts to charm and seduce her - though the latter wasn't really an option anyway - and focused on getting to know her instead. They had become good friends, but while Gambit's feelings had grown towards her, he was unsure of how she felt about him. When she told him to trust her, he was struck by the fact that for the first time in his life, he actually trusted someone. And he responded with all his heart.

She felt his words deep within her soul, but the sensation lasted less than a second. The moment was lost when she finally realized that she'd done this before...she already had this conversation in a dream. That, along with the fact that she had been preoccupied with the idea of jumping off cliffs lately, made her wonder if her decision was more than coincidence. But she didn't have the chance to focus on either Gambit's declaration or her recent epiphany.

"The way I see it, you have three choices," Pyro giggled behind them. "Give up and live another day, try 'n fight me and become bar-be-cued X-Men, or go cliff diving." He approached them slowly, small flames already dancing above his hands. "It's up to you."

Rogue offered her hand to Remy, who took it firmly...and they ran. They could feel his fire's hot breath reaching out for them, but didn't look back. When they reached the edge, they leapt without hesitation.

* * *

"You really jumped off a cliff?"

Gambit glared at Kurt over the open refrigerator door. "For the millionth time, yes."

Kurt jumped off the counter and took a seat at the table instead. "Sorry."

Gambit grabbed two sodas, closed the door, and sighed. "We've been back for all of ten minutes, an' all I've been hearin' is 'did ya really jump off a cliff?'."

"Vell, it's not every day that a couple of your friends voluntarily do something like that."

_"Friends?"_ Remy thought to himself. _"Like any of you consider me a friend."_ "What can I say...me an' Rogue were bored. We thought a little high dive was jus' what we needed."

"The vay I hear it, she told you to jump."

"Word spreads fast around here, huh?"

Kurt leaned back and put his feet on the table. "The fuzzy dude always knows the latest and greatest. Especially ven it concerns his sister."

Gambit had forgotten about Nightcrawler's somewhat common bond with Rogue - a mother who cared more about her children's powers than the children themselves. He shrugged. "She said jump...I trust her."

"Rare is the man who will go jump off a cliff ven a voman tells him to," Kurt mused, trying to sound philosophical.

"I gotta get back," Gambit said, unwilling to comment on his relationship with Rogue. He left the kitchen and went back to the study, where Rogue was waiting for him, still in uniform, though she had changed gloves.

"Ah hate this," she complained after he handed her a soda. "Ah feel like a little girl waitin' to be punished for spillin' somethin' on the carpet."

"Where's the professor?"

"Talkin' to Jean and Ororo...gettin' their version of the story before he comes in an' grounds me for the rest of mah life."

"Well...he can't do much to me. Don' worry, I'll sneak in an' visit you."

"A prison with visitors is still a prison," she sulked, taking a sip from her soda. "Besides, they could do worse...they could forbid me to see you."

"That all it takes? One word from your professor an' you'll leave me forever?" he asked with a trademark grin.

"Of course not," she replied with more emotion than she intended. She paused and calmed herself. "But between Logan's nose and the professor's telepathy, it'd be hard to hide."

"I don' know...I'm sure we could find a way," Gambit asserted, unconcerned. "But let's not worry until it actually comes to that. Cheer up, chere, we're still alive, ain't we?"

"You didn't think we'd make it...why'd you listen to me?"

" 'Cause you were so sure of yourself...'cause I know there was somethin' in your gut tellin' you it was the right thing t'do, an' sometimes your gut is all ya got." He lowered his voice and reiterated his earlier sentiments. "Because I trust you, Rogue."

The moment he thought was lost forever in the chaos of their previous predicament miraculously reappeared with his words. This time there was a noticeable physical reaction on Rogue's part - a sharp intake of breath followed by a brief flash in her eyes that marked the ever so slight opening of the door she had recently slammed shut. The door closed once again, but this time with a whisper, rather than its previous loud bang.

"Ah hate this," she repeated, silently cursing herself first for almost letting him in...and then for not admitting him. "Stupid Pyro...this is all his fault."

"Don' blame the poor little guy, he's jus' highly unstable."

"Speakin' of which...you never did tell me why his was mad at you...somethin' about a tape..."

This probably wasn't the best time to tell her. "Maybe later."

"Hey, now, we were gonna try to keep the secrets to a minimum, remember?" she said, a touch of irritation in her voice. "Out with it, Bayou boy."

"You sure you wanna hear this?" he asked. She nodded, and he gave in. "Ok...right before Apocalypse was reawakened," he began, and he saw her stiffen a little. "You _sure_ you can handle this?"

"Ah'm fine, go on."

He didn't know which was worse - reminding her of one of the many betrayals of her adoptive mother, or trying to protect her from the truth. Either way she was going to be pretty pissed off. He finally decided to tell her...he felt it was her right to know. And it would show her that he was trying to be more open and honest with her. "Anyway, you were goin' around absorbin' everybody left an' right...an' no one remembered what happened 'cause Mesmero wiped out their memories of it when you were done. But there were a bunch of security cameras in our warehouse, so we got you on tape."

"So?"

"Well, John got a kick outta your takin' everyone out, especially me." He paused, and she looked at him expectantly. "Well...the other Acolytes went down when you touched them with your hand...the only reason you got the drop on me is 'cause you popped up an' kissed me."

The flush in her face was one of anger, rather than embarrassment. "It was bad enough when mah first kiss was just your way of givin' me your powers...now you're tellin' me that ah don't even remember mah first kiss, an' ah used it to _steal_?" She got up and began to pace the room. "That damn bastard, if ah ever get mah hands on him..."

"See, this is why I didn't want t' tell you," Gambit said, standing as well. "I knew you'd get upset..."

"Upset? You ain't seen nothin' yet," she growled, ready to tear apart the room. "That good-fer-nothin' son of a..."

"Rogue," a calm voice said from the door, and she stopped mid-sentence.

Now she was embarrassed.

"Professor...ah..." she turned around and looked from him to Gambit helplessly.

"Why don't you sit down so we can talk?" he suggested, and she quickly did as she was told. "I've spoken to both Jean and Ororo, now I'd like to hear your side of the story." His manner was neither angry nor accusing as he rolled over to the couch and patiently waited for her to begin.

"Ah really don't know what to say," she admitted. "Me an' Remy were runnin' away from Pyro...an' somehow ah knew that we had to jump off that cliff."

"Is it a feeling you had?" he asked.

"Ah guess."

Gambit sat down next to her. "You're leavin' out the middle, cherie," he said to her before addressing the professor. "Between our runnin' an' her comin' up with this plan, she lost her sight for a couple minutes."

The professor leaned back and tented his fingers. "Is this true, Rogue?"

"Yeah. Ah didn't want to sound crazy, so ah wasn't gonna bring this up, but ah had a vision, an' that's how ah knew what to do."

The professor nodded - it was obvious this was the answer he had been expecting. "Gambit could you excuse us, please? I'd like to talk to Rogue in private."

"He stays," she stated firmly.

"I think it's best that I speak to you alone."

Gambit could take a hint. He stood. "No worries...I'll just wait outside."

"No...ah mean, ah appreciate the offer, but you ain't goin' nowhere," she said, pulling him back down next to her. "This man followed me off a cliff for God's sake. He has the right to know what's goin' on."

"Very well, if that's what you prefer." He paused a moment before conceding. What I have to say might be easier to hear with a friend close by."

"Oh, more good news...great," she muttered. "Well, get on with it."

"I'll have to scan your mind to make sure my suspicions are correct...may I?"

She nodded, and he held his hands on both sides of her head. "Relax, and try to concentrate on the visions you spoke of." He closed his eyes for a few seconds, and was bombarded with several hundred different images before being able to focus in on her "visions." He continued to probe her mind a little while longer, until he found confirmation of his hypothesis. He sighed and leaned back in his wheelchair again, opening his eyes.

"Have you been experiencing dreams or thoughts with similar themes?"

"Yes."

"Has anything you've dreamt come true?"  
"Yes..." she whispered, dread filling her heart. "What does it mean?"

"I believe you've absorbed a precog," he replied, "and that her visions of the future have been expressed in your dreams...until that future became the present, and her powers completely manifested themselves while you were trying to escape Pyro."

"A blind seer," Gambit mumbled to himself. Rogue was close enough to hear him, however, and grew pale, immediately comprehending the unspoken truth.

"Your foster mother..."

"No," she shook her head at his words. "No, Irene is _not_ a mutant. She would've told me..."

"Irene Adler, also known as Destiny, can see a plethora of possible futures...a mutation which also robbed her of physical sight. She is the longtime friend and companion of Raven Darkholme."

Another day, another betrayal. Rogue's face crumbled at the news, and she covered her face with her gloved hands, trying to block out the truth. "Irene and Mystique...?"

"She knew you were a mutant long before your powers surfaced...she even knew what your powers would entail. If it's any comfort, she tried to protect you from them by making sure that your clothes covered most of your skin, although that meant lying to you about having a skin condition. But like puberty, mutations don't always emerge in a concentrated burst...if you touched her while your powers were still weak, it's possible that you absorbed some of her powers and memories without either of you realizing it."

Gambit put his arm around her, but she moved away from him to the furthest corner of the couch. "How could she...?"

"She's always cared about you, you know that..."

Rogue looked at him, eyes full of rage and despair. "Irene cares about me, Mystique cares about me, Risty cares about me...ah can do without that kind a' carin'. Ah'm better off on mah own."

"Rogue..."

"Just leave me alone," she said, turning away from both men. "At least then ah'll be able to trust who ah'm with."

The professor wisely chose to respect her request and left, though Gambit refused to back down. "Chere, I..."

"Ah said leave me alone!" She faced him, eyes blazing. "A lyin', thievin', no-good Cajun is the last thing ah need right now!"

Most men would have withdrawn from the study. Most men would've been deeply hurt by her remarks. But Remy LeBeau was not most men. Instead he got up, walked over to her, grabbed her left wrist, and pulled her to a standing position. "You're angry, so I'll forgive you that, but you gotta stop shuttin' the whole world out when you're hurtin'."

"Let go mah wrist," she demanded, unsuccessfully struggling against his grip.

"Not 'til you stop fightin' me."

She reached up with her right hand and slapped him across the face. Hard. But his grip did not loosen. She slapped him again, and again he didn't respond. "Why can't you just leave me be?"

He ignored her question. "I understand you need to hit an' kick an' scream, an' if you choose to take out your frustrations on me, so be it, but I ain't leavin'."

Gambit released her wrist, and she attacked him. He allowed her to get some shots in, and took a decent beating for it, but when the frequency and strength of her blows decreased, he knew the end was near. She came at him one last time, but he unexpectedly opened his arms at the last second and trapped her in an embrace. She resisted for several seconds before finally relaxing in his arms.

Sobs racked her body as she clutched the lapels of his trench coat and buried her face in his chest. "Everythin' ah built mah life around is a lie."

He had no words of comfort to offer, so he simply held her while she wept.

* * *

When her tears were spent, Gambit walked her to the couch and sat her down. She was still sniffling and afflicted with the occasional deep ragged breath, so he gave Rogue more time to collect herself, waiting for her normal breathing patterns to return before he attempted to comment.

On one knee on the floor before her, he told her a story from his past. "When I was jus' a pup, Jean-Luc came t' visit me...I was too young t' officially join the Thieves Guild, so I was biding my time in a local band of child-thieves." His accent became stronger as he described the scene further. "At the time, all I knew about de man was dat he was very important...I didn' know he was my adoptive father...anyway, I was sittin' on my bed in de common room a bunch of us shared, and he jus' came in an' sat next to me. He took a deck a' cards outta his pocket an' fanned 'em out in his right hand. 'Remy," he said, 'life is like a card game...you have t' play de hand you're dealt. Sometimes you'll stand an' sometimes you'll fold; sometimes you have t' lie, an' sometimes not. But never forget - all your opponents are out t' win, an' will do anyt'in' t' succeed.'" Gambit paused and closed his eyes, allowing himself to relive these events that he had long ago filed away in the back of his mind. " 'Trust no one,' he warned. 'An' never forget dat in dis game, we're all alone.' Then he put de stack a' cards on my bed an' left. I've had a deck on me ever since...t' remind me."

A solitary tear ran down Rogue's cheek when he opened his eyes and she saw the sadness that lived deep within the red/black orbs. "Do you really believe that?"

"At first I didn' understand what he meant...but as I grew up, an' looked around me, all I could see was proof of his words."

She nodded slowly. "We're all alone."

"I believed it for a long time," he continued, "but recently I've started to change my mind."

"Not because of me..."

"No," he replied with a slow smile, "not entirely. But when Magneto hired me, part of my job was to keep an eye on the X-Men...an' what I saw was somethin' that was only supposed t' exist in fairy tales. I saw a family - one whose members cared about each other despite their differences, who had each other's backs no matter what. An' then I saw you." He took her hand in his and looked down at it. "An' for the first time, there was someone I didn't wanna play against...someone I wanted to help with her game." He raised his eyes to meet hers. "You're learnin', p'tite, but maybe you could use some help callin' people's bluffs."

"You offerin' to teach me?"

"You ready to learn?"

"You tellin' me that you would've been able to see through Mystique an' Irene?" she asked skeptically.

"Maybe, maybe not. You gotta learn not to trust so easily...part of de problem with your previous experiences was the situations you were in - a child will always trust her parental figure unless that person does somethin' blatantly wrong...an' Mystique appeared as Risty before you had a chance to settle in with your new family, right when you needed a friend the most. You jus' need to be aware of when you're susceptible t' manipulation, an' be suspicious of anyone who approaches you at that time."

"An' how do ah know ah can trust you?"

"That's somethin' you'll have to decide for yourself."

For all his lies and passing references to a sketchy past, Rogue did trust him. After all, hadn't she decided he was her soul mate? He was the perfect match for her...and she was for him. It wouldn't make sense for her not to trust him. It was like they were meant to be. It was their fate, their destiny...but she didn't want to think about the "game of life" any more today. She needed to be cheered up. "You never finished your story."

"Oh...about that...I'm sorry."

"For...?"

"Kissin' you. I didn' know it was your first...I mean, it wasn't, but I only did it to help."

"Ah know," she assured him. "Ah wasn't mad at you, ah was mad at the situation. But you still haven't finished the story. Pyro was teasin' you and..."

"An' I made him rewind the tape so we could all watch you drain his powers. The look on his face was priceless when you walked right through his wall of flames...he got really angry an' stormed outta the room. I guess we're lucky he didn't fry us all right then an' there."

"Ah wish ah coulda seen it."

"Actually...I have the tape back at my place."

"Give me five minutes to change outta mah uniform," she said, heading for the door.

"Rogue..."

She stopped and turned around. "Yeah."

"You're gonna be fine...the X-Men play to win, but they follow stricter rules. You're not alone."

She continued on her previous heading, wondering why Gambit still hesitated to join the X-Men if he thought they were so great...although he was no longer an Acolyte, and would gladly lend a hand if Professor X asked him, he had yet to officially become one of them. "You're not either, Remy. X-Man or not."

* * *

Author's note - The song _O Fortuna_ opens and closes the opera "Carmina Burana." I've never seen the opera, but the piece is one of my favorite classical works (if you heard it, you'd probably recognize it...it's often used in movie trailers). I chose it to be the title of this fanfic because the song apparently "laments the fickleness of the goddess Fortune who rules the lives of men." I did some brief research on this goddess, and found that, amongst other things, she's associated with a cornucopia, a rudder of destiny, and a wheel of fortune. Fortune...fate...destiny...see the connection? Ok, so maybe it's a stretch. But I'm willing to make that stretch... 


	5. Save the Best for Last

**Part 5 - Save the Best for Last**

****

"It's all set."

The cheerful Christmas music playing in the background was in stark contrast to Rogue's mood. She shifted on the barstool and looked at Jimmy skeptically. "Are you sure?"

"Look," he began, reaching under the bar and pulling out a clipboard. "Right there - LeBeau, 7 pm, table for two, corner booth." After letting her scrutinize the papers for a minute, he returned the clipboard to its place. "I've been runnin' this place for a while now, I think I can get a simple reservation right."

"Ah know, ah'm sorry," she sighed, "it's just that tonight is very important, an' ah don't want anythin' to mess it up."

"Would it help if I offered to wait on them myself?" he offered.

"Only if you're prepared to keep 'em from killin' each other," Rogue said despondently. _"This is a mistake,"_ she thought to herself. _"What have ah gotten mahself into...why did ah think ah had the right to go nosin' around where ah didn't belong...?"_

Jean-Luc had wondered the same thing. "An' where exactly' d'you fit into all dis?" he asked once she laid out her plans to him over the phone. She had told him that her relationship with her mother - "mothers" would probably be more appropriate - was at a point where reconciliation was impossible, and that she'd hate for that to happen to Remy and him. The leader of the Thieves Guild had been more than patient listening to her proposal - she would pay for his flight from New Orleans to Bayville and back again, put him up in a local hotel, and arrange for him and his adopted son to have dinner together. She asked for nothing in return, save he make a concerted effort to mend things between him and Remy. He was puzzled by the proposition, and couldn't quite understand what she expected to get out of it...but since seeing Remy last, he had begun to reevaluate his relationship with the boy he had once saved from the clutches of a man that made even the likes of Jean-Luc shudder with disgust. He was ready to sit down and have a heart-to-heart with Remy, and this was the perfect opportunity. Still, in his experience nothing came without a price, and he waited for the other shoe to drop. But even when the girl in the dark clothes and the white streak in her hair had picked him up at the airport and drove him to his hotel, she said nothing on the subject of payment.

"Ah'll have a taxi pick you up a little before 7," she promised once she made sure he was settled in his room. "Tomorrow, ah'll come by an'..."

"No," Jean-Luc interrupted. "You've done too much already. I'll get back t' de airport myself."

She started to argue with him, but stopped herself and shrugged. "Whatever you want."

The girl who he'd seen take out two men with nothing more than a touch turned to leave. "Why're you doin' dis?" he asked outright, still unable to grasp her motive.

She left without answering him.

"Rogue."

She snapped back to the present. "Huh?"

Jimmy patted her arm reassuringly. "It's a good thing you're trying to do. Even if it doesn't work out, I'm sure both men appreciate it."

"Yeah," she replied absently. She'd given Jimmy precious little information about this attempted reconciliation, just that Remy and his adoptive father were estranged, and she was trying to get their relationship back on track. The problem was, she didn't know if it'd ever been on track to begin with. "Thanks, Jimmy...for everythin'. I gotta get goin'."

Rogue got up and started to put on her coat. She glanced around at the handful of customers, mostly couples enjoying mugs of hot cocoa. Happy couples. Smiling couples playfully flirting with each other. Normal couples. Couples who touched, nuzzled, and kissed without a thought. A wave of jealously hit her as she glanced down at her perpetually gloved hands. The one thing she wanted was the one thing she couldn't have...she finally wanted to be near someone, and it was already too late for her. And she was surrounded by people who took for granted the simple pleasure she was denied.

Sitting apart from the couples, Wanda Maximoff had noticed Rogue come in. She herself had escaped from the stifling disarray of the Brotherhood's boarding house only twenty minutes earlier. In dire need of a break from her teammates, she decided to go to The Dungeon for a few hours. Like Rogue, she appreciated the darker atmosphere of the diner, and was pleased to discover that it was all but deserted at the moment. She was on her second cup of coffee, reading a novel when the X-Man walked in. Wanda watched her talk to the owner for a few minutes, her mood seemingly all over the place - demanding, then defeated, then distracted - before getting ready to leave. She saw Rogue's eyes move from the couples present to her own covered hands, and suddenly felt sorry for her. She'd rather be able to feel Todd's slimy hand on her arm as he tried to win her affections than absorb everyone she came in contact with.

"Hey..." she said tentatively, unsure of where to go from there.

Rogue's feelings of self-pity faded when Wanda awkwardly waved at her from across the room. Not wanting to be rude, Rogue approached the other girl, who invited her to join her. "What're you doin' here?"

"Oh, you know...had to get away from the testosterone-riddled madhouse for a while."

Rogue smiled a little. "Ah can't imagine what's it's like livin' with those boys..."

"It's not so bad," Wanda admitted, "but every once in a while I need a break from them. I can only watch _Dude, Where's My Car?_ so many times..."

"It doesn't bother you bein' the only girl in the house?"

"Nah. They all think of me as one of the guys...except Toad, but I don't even want to think about that right now."

An uncomfortable silence followed her remark as both girls tried to think of something else to say. Although they knew each other by reputation, they had never really talked until now, and while they seemed similar on the surface, it didn't look like they had much to talk about after all. "Ah better go," Rogue finally said. "It was nice talkin' to you, Wanda."

"Yeah...take care."

She watched the other girl exit the diner before returning to her novel. They were both misfits within their respective groups of misfits...Wanda wondered if they had more in common than either was willing to admit. She wouldn't mind exploring the possibility, but Rogue's thoughts were elsewhere at the moment. Now was not the time.

* * *

Rogue anxiously pulled the curtains aside one last time, hoping she'd see Remy walking towards the mansion, but was welcomed by a silent winter landscape. He wasn't coming. She released the dark fabric, but remained where she was long after it had fallen back into place.

"Hey," a voice interrupted her thoughts, "this is supposed to be a party."

She turned to face Scott, who had returned from college a few days ago. Like Rogue, he had nowhere to go during the holidays, no real home or family to visit, so when the other students went to their respective homes for their winter break, she and Scott would be the only two young people left. They were far from feeling left behind, however, and Rogue had come to look forward to the two weeks she spent bonding with Scott, the professor, Dr. McCoy, and Logan...when Logan wasn't wandering the country, that is.

"Shouldn't you be spendin' ev'ry last wakin' moment with Jean?" she asked, a touch of bitterness in her voice. "She's leavin' tomorrow, ya know."

Scott glanced over his shoulder at his girlfriend, who was chatting with Kitty and Kurt. "I've seen her more than the rest of you have this semester...she wants to catch up with everyone. So do I."

Rogue couldn't hide the smile she felt creeping across her face. "You _are_ the charmer, aren't you?"

"That's what I'm told."

The two walked over to the couch and Rogue began asking him about college. He was in the middle of an amusing story when he noticed that he didn't have her complete attention. "What's the matter?"

"Nothin'." He waited for her to say more, and she finally elaborated. "Ah was just hopin' Remy would come."

Scott still didn't like the idea of Rogue seeing him, but from what he heard from both the professor and Logan, it sounded like Gambit was turning over a new leaf. "Maybe he got tied up with something..."

She was unconvinced. "Maybe."

"Stay right here," Scott said, jumping up and running out of the room. Rogue was startled by his reaction, but remained where she was until Scott returned and placed a neatly wrapped package in her hands. "I was going to wait until Christmas, but it looks like you need some cheering up."

She ripped open the wrapping paper and examined the book within. "_The Taming of the Shrew_?"

"Yeah...I had to read it in one of my English classes...one of the main characters kinda remined me of you. And on top of that, her name is Kate, so you know, it all fit."

"Are you callin' me a shrew, Scott Summers?" Rogue asked in mock surprise.

"Well...I mean....yeah...I guess..."

She slugged him lightly. "Ah take it back, you're no charmer!"

"Merry Christmas, Rogue," he laughed, pretending to cower from her blow. "Please don't hurt me."

"Thanks, Scott," she said seriously. "Ah can't wait to read it. But why don't you go catch up with the others too...we'll have enough time to talk later."

He nodded and the two parted company. While he went off and started a conversation with Ororo, Rogue decided to mingle as well. But her thoughts were still on Gambit, wondering if he thought she had gone out of bounds by contacting Jean-Luc without his permission. She simply wasn't in a partying mood. So she decided to go for a walk.

Slipping out of the room unnoticed, Rogue considered changing her outfit before wandering out into the cold winter night. She was wearing her usual dressy outfit - black tank top, gray wrap skirt, elbow length gloves, knee high black heeled boots, and purple scarf - which didn't really lend itself to warmth, but she was too lazy to make her way upstairs. She opened the coat closet and pulled out a long, black, hooded cloak. It was an early Christmas present from Logan, one that she had yet to wear. She wrapped her scarf more tightly around her neck, then put on the cloak, buttoning the buttons down to her waist. As she walked out the door, she put the hood on, the final touch of warmth and drama.

The silence of the snow covered property was deafening. Even the crunch of her boots as they entered the frozen white powder seemed to get sucked into the stillness. Coming from the south, she wasn't a big fan of the cold...but she did enjoy the snow. As a girl, she had only seen it on TV and in movies, had only read about it in books...now she felt low temperatures were a small price to pay to actually see it in person.

She welcomed the slight chill burrowing into her bones; it helped clear her head. She tried going over things objectively. The meeting between father and son had occurred last night...although Jean-Luc knew what was going on, Remy thought he was meeting Rogue for dinner...and she hadn't heard from either since. This didn't bode well for her. Why did she think she could fix things between them? It was a stupid thing to do, especially without Gambit's knowledge or consent...

"Rogue?" A large figure stepped out of the shadows of a nearby tree.

"Piotr...what are you doin' out here? Why aren't you at the party?"

"I was going to ask you the same thing," he said in a soft voice. "I am out here because snow always reminds me of my family. I have not seen them in a long time, and I wonder if they will think I have changed much."

"Oh." Rogue didn't know Colossus all that well, even though he had been a member of the team for about six months. He didn't talk much, and seemed like a sweet guy, especially towards Kitty, but they didn't really move in the same circles. "Ah just needed some time alone."

"I'm sorry, I did not mean to intrude upon your solitude," he apologized, starting to leave.

"No...ah mean, ah came out here to think, but ah haven't been makin' much progress. Ah wouldn't mind some company."

He nodded slightly, and they walked together for several minutes in silence. She entertained the idea of asking him about Gambit, but ultimately decided against it. From what she understood, the Acolytes were strictly teammates who didn't go beyond the boundaries of a professional relationship. He wouldn't be able to tell her anything she didn't already know.

When they reached the wall that separated two parts of the property, Piotr easily pulled himself to the top. He reached down, and with extraordinarily little effort pulled Rogue up next to him. He jumped down on the other side, and before she could protest, wrapped his hands around Rogue's waist and carefully placed her on the ground next to him. "Ah always knew you were strong, but ah had no idea that..."

"I was gentle?"

"Yeah."

"When my powers surfaced, I did not realize my own strength. Even now it is sometimes difficult for me to gauge how much power to use. I had...some accidents in the beginning. Property was damaged, people were injured...nothing permanent, but it was enough. I do not wish to hurt anyone, and have since tried to be aware of how much energy I put into every task I undertake."

"That must be hard for you."

"I understand that your powers are also hard for you."

"Ah guess everyone's powers have a downside to them," she allowed, "but ah feel like ah got the short end of the stick. Ah can't touch anyone without hurtin' them. Ever. Ah don't have any control at all."

"Perhaps that will change with time."

"Ah don't think so," she said with a disturbing sense of certainty. She lowered her voice considerably and confessed to something that had, as of late, been bothering her. "An' ah'm afraid that one day ah'm gonna hurt someone real bad...maybe even kill them. Ah'll just touch them, an' that'll be it. Ah couldn't live with mahself if that happened...ah don't want someone else's blood on mah hands..." She thought back to when she pushed a petrified Mystique off a cliff, an act that still haunted her despite the fact that it had not resulted in her adoptive mother's death. She didn't want to experience anything like that again.

"I cannot speak for the others, but I too share your fear," he replied. "If it is any comfort, I will try to make sure you never experience such a thing."

"Ah...that's sweet. Ah'll try to do the same for you."

"You are shivering...maybe we should go back inside."

A voice from behind them spoke up. "Rogue..."

* * *

Remy LeBeau had not been particularly pleased to find Jean-Luc sitting where Rogue was supposed to be, but he slid into the booth nonetheless. "An' what brings the head of the Thieves Guild into my neck of the woods...mus' be important for him to come all de way up here..."

"Remy...I've come wavin' a white flag, jus' hear me out."

"I'm listening," Gambit said, leaning back in his seat, crossing his arms.

"You t'ink de only interest I have in you has t' do with your powers...an' for a long time dat was a big part of it, but dat's not how we started out."

"You're not gonna tell me some sob story 'bout how you saved me from some evil old man, are you...'cause if dat's what dis is about, you can stop right dere."

Jean-Luc looked surprised. "Actually, dat's exactly what I was gonna say."

Gambit was taken off guard by his response, and motioned for him to continue out of curiosity. Just then Jimmy, took advantage of the brief silence between the two men to take their orders, which he did as quickly as possible, before leaving them alone once again.

"You were left at a hospital...even I don' know who your parents are. The Antiquary took notice of your...unique physical attributes, an' wanted you for his collection. I usually keep outta dat man's affairs...but dere was no way I was lettin' him get his hands on you. Stealin' and sellin' chil'ren was bad enough...but he wanted to keep you an' make you a part of his collection..."

"I'm aware of de man's reputation," Remy broke in. The Antiquary was known for certain immoral eccentricities...in plain English, he was one sick bastard. Definitely not the kind of guy you want raising a child.

"So I made sure you sure you placed somewhere safe...where you'd also get de best education possible."

"As a t'ief."

"Of course as a t'ief, what else would I train my son t'be?"

He had a point. "As heartwarmin' as dis all is, you gonna tell me why you fatherly concern didn' keep you from usin' de boy you supposedly saved?"

Jean-Luc had been asking himself the very same question, and knew Remy wouldn't like his answer, but lying to him would only widen the gap between them. "Power corrupts."

Gambit waited for him to continue, and was annoyed when it became obvious that this was all his father intended to say. "Dat's it? 'Power corrupts'? T'anks for clearin' dat up..."

"You want de truth, I give it t'you, an' you're still not satisfied. Whadda ya want from me, an apology? Fine, I'm sorry I couldn't bring myself t'see past your powers...it's jus' dat I saw so much promise in dem...so much you an' I could do wit' powers like dat at our disposal."

"Are you serious?"

"Don' I look serious?"

Gambit eyed him suspiciously. "Why are you here?"

"I told you..."

"Yeah, you told me one t'ing, but you want anot'er. I know you, Jean-Luc, you're not exactly de type to come all dis way for nothin'. What is it you want from me?"

"Nothin'."

"I don' get it."

"Dere's nothin' t'get."

Gambit shook his head. "I'm missin' somet'in' here..."

"You're not."

"So you're tellin' me dat you came up here all on your own, for no ot'er reason dan t' sit down wit' me an' have some kind of father-son bondin' fest?"

"Not quite on my own," he admitted reluctantly.

"See...I knew you had somet'in' up your sleeve. Who'd you bring, an' what d'they want?"

Once again, Jean-Luc's expression was one of mild surprise. "What I mean is, dis wasn't really my idea. I didn' bring anyone...someone brought me."

"Uh huh. An' who would dis mystery person be?"

"Dat girl who helped us escape de Rippers...you know, with de white streak in her hair?"

The irritation Gambit had felt since arriving had interfered with his common sense. Of course, who else around here would know, or even care, about his not-so-wonderful relationship with Jean-Luc. "Rogue?"

"Dat her name? She never told me."

Gambit insisted his father tell him all the details of his dealings with Rogue, and the older man was more than happy to divulge everything from her first phone call right up to when she left him at the hotel. Gambit listened intensely, stopping him to ask questions every so often. When Jean-Luc was finished, there was another long silence.

Jimmy came with their food and left, though neither man began to eat. Gambit couldn't believe how much trouble Rogue went to for him...and while he felt that she had been poking around where she didn't belong, he knew that she had his best interests in mind. The invasion of privacy was minuscule compared to the amount of thought and effort she had put into this. Meanwhile, Jean-Luc had been astonished at Gambit's reaction to his confession. He had assumed the two had some kind of relationship, since Remy was _always_ involved in some kind of relationship with a woman or two. Even three. But there had never been any particular attachment on his part. While his women would do almost anything for him, he never seemed to share their feelings. But this Rogue girl...he was acting like he might actually care about her.

"Dis Rogue...she an' you...?"

Gambit looked at Jean-Luc, and for the first time since his powers had emerged, there was no hostility in his eyes. "Yeah."

"It's serious, den?"

Gambit considered his answer before speaking...hesitant to give his father any information about someone he cared deeply about. "I t'ink so."

Jean-Luc understood his disinclination to trust him, and didn't want to press the matter further. "She seems like a special girl."

"She is."

* * *

Only a thief could successfully sneak up on two experienced X-Men in the ice coated snow. "Remy," she whispered apprehensively without turning around. She was frozen in place, unable to face him. Afraid of what she might see in his eyes when she did.

"Piotr, you wouldn't mind excusin' us, would you? I need t' have a little talk with de rogue here."

_"Well,"_ she reasoned, _"he must've spent a good amount a' time with his dad...he's talkin' with that silly accent again."_

Colossus glanced down at Rogue, silently asking her permission to leave. "Ah think this is where we part ways," she told him, and the giant of a man slowly walked into the darkness.

"What's de matter, cherie...scared of a Cajun's wrath?"

The comment was just enough to make her turn around in defiance. "Ah ain't afraid of you."

"After dat stunt you pulled, maybe you should be."

His face was impossible to read, stoic to the point of being expressionless. But even Gambit could only take a joke so far, especially when his victim was taking everything he said so seriously. He smiled. "I'm jus' kidding...Gambit's not mad at you." He approached her and offered her his arm. "Walk with me."

Displeased with his antics, she nevertheless took his arm and they began to walk "Why does everythin' have to be a joke to you?"

"You'd rather I was angry?"

"Well..."

"Wasn't too happy when I found out Jean-Luc was my date for the night...but your heart was in the right place."

She brightened at his words. "So things went ok? Did you work anythin' out? Ah wasn't sure...you father is so hard to get a read on..."

"T'ings could've gone better, but they certainly coulda been a whole lot worse. I t'ink we understand each other a little better, an' that's a start."

"Ah'm glad it worked out, 'cause that was your Christmas present."

"Dat's it?"

"Ah hope you're kiddin'...between the plannin' an' havin' to practically beg your father to come..."

"It's the best present I've ever received," he said earnestly. "An' it's impossible to top, but dat don' mean I won't try..."

"Ah sure hope your gift doesn't involve Mystique or Destiny, 'cause if it does, ah'm tellin' you right now, things are gonna get messy."

"It doesn't," he replied. Trying to arrange some kind of sit-down between Rogue and either woman was not a good idea, at least not right now. Their betrayals were still too close at hand...and he wasn't sure if they had ever seen Rogue as anything more than a powerful ally. "Although it does require the combined talents of a weather witch and a...well, I don' want t' spoil the surprise...you'll jus' have to wait an' see."

The arrived at the gazebo on the cliff a few minutes later. Rogue noticed that the area surrounding the structure was free of snow just before she was welcomed by the warmth of a late spring breeze. "What on Earth...?"

"Wait for it," he said softly, nodding to two figures standing off on the side, too far away for her to see them clearly.

The smaller of the two raised his hands for several seconds, then spoke in a small voice. "It's done."

* * *

The first thing Remy did when he woke up that morning was call the mother of a mutant he knew by reputation, and then only as Leech. She had agreed to meet with him a little before noon once she learned of his friendly relationship with Charles Xavier, who had always been especially kind and patient with both her and her son.

He arrived on time, and she invited him into the living room.

"Mrs. Leech," he began cautiously, not knowing how else to address her, "I have a favor to ask..." She eyed him warily, and he didn't blame her. Accepting that your child was a mutant was tough for many parents, but she had the additional burden of having to protect the unusually young boy from the rest of the world, as her son's powers had manifested long before most mutants', when he was only 10. She had agreed to allow him to participate in the battle against Apocalypse only if he remained as far away from danger as possible, and only because the fate of the entire world rested in the outcome. She felt that Dorian was still too young to undertake any kind of formal training, and wanted him to enjoy his childhood while he still could. She knew his innocence and optimism would be lost when he inevitably joined the group of mutants in their struggle for fair treatment.

"It has nothin' t' do with fightin'," he continued. "Actually, it has t'do with a girl."

In the next room, Leech turned down the television and listened. Gambit told his mother about Rogue, who they both knew a little, and his wish to give her a special Christmas present. He also explained that both he and she had been used for their powers in the past, and he realized that his asking Leech to turn off her powers probably made him seem like a hypocrite, but he could think of no other way to approach the issue.

His mother was sympathetic and polite, but her response was not what Gambit had hoped. She understood his request and admired his honesty, but she didn't think they should get involved. Still, she said, it was up to Dorian.

When she called him in, Leech obediently entered the living room and sat next to his mother on the couch. The man's story had made him sad. "She really can't touch anyone?" he asked, betraying the fact that he had been eavesdropping.

"Not without dem goin' t' sleep...like when she borrowed your powers. It don' hurt none, but de longer she touches you, de more energy she drains...if she holds on long enough, it gets dangerous."

"And you want to touch her?"

Gambit pushed the dirty thoughts the boy's question had produced aside. "I want t' remind her what it's like t'touch another person. It's hard spendin' your life worryin' about accidentally absorbin' someone by just brushin' against their bare skin." He was going to say more, but held back. His intention was not to guilt the child into helping him - either he would or he wouldn't.

"I want to help," he stated, looking up at his mother. "She's a nice girl...I don't want her to be unhappy on Christmas."

Despite her objections, his mother was proud of Dorain's decision. "When do you need us?"

* * *

"It won't last long," Leech warned when Rogue approached him.

She bent down and kissed his forehead, a gesture the moved both him and his mother, considering that she was wasting precious seconds of her freedom. "Thank you," she whispered in his ear, "ah'll never forget this."

Leech reached up for his mother's hand, and the two followed the path back to the Institute. Rogue returned to the unnaturally warm area near the gazebo with tears of joy in her eyes. "Remy, ah..."

He shook his head, and went on to slowly unbutton and remove her cloak. Draping it over his arm, he took his time slipping off her gloves, followed by her purple scarf. Walking over to the gazebo, he carefully hung them on the railing, adding his coat and sweater to the pile.

To her amazement, he didn't rush back and sweep her off her feet, but rather pulled her close and began to sway slowly back and forth. He had removed his own gloves during her brief encounter with Leech, and felt a rush of adrenaline as the fingers of his left hand mingled with her right, while his right grazed the bare skin of her waist. Every nerve in Rogue's skin danced with delight at his touch. He began to hum softly, and she put her head on his shoulder. After a little while, he actually began to sing to her...

"Sometimes the snow comes down in June,  
Sometimes the sun goes 'round the moon,  
I see the passion in your eyes,  
Sometimes it's all a big surprise,

" 'Cause there was a time when all I did was wish,  
You'd tell me this was love,  
It's not the way I hoped, or how I planned,  
But somehow it's enough..."

He brought her right hand to his shoulder, and his left joined his right at her waist. He pulled her as close as possible, and she picked up her head so she could look into his face...

"And now we're standing face to face  
Isn't this world a crazy place?  
Just when I thought our chance had passed  
You go and save the best for last..." (1)

He wanted to kiss her. Ever since he first laid eyes on her. But her powers had prevented it, and even now he knew that her curse was his blessing. All those girls he had wined and dined, charmed and bedded, meant nothing to him. Those relationships were built upon pure chemistry, physical attraction and nothing more. Ask the girls' middle names, ask their favorite colors, and Gambit wouldn't be able to tell you. He didn't know, and he didn't much care. And, though he hated to admit it, if it wasn't for the simple fact that everyone Rogue touched lost consciousness, it was probable that she would've been his most recent conquest. But he had been forced to hold back, and in the process, got to know the girl behind the powers. He fell for her...and for the first time in his life, his urge to kiss a girl had less to do with animal lust than a sincere need to express his feelings for someone he cared about more than anything.

She was waiting for the kiss, expecting it, and wondered at his hesitation. Her powers would return soon, and he was taking his sweet old time. At the same time, she marveled at his self control, and realized that he was trying to do things right...to treat her like a lady. This wasn't supposed to be a frantic tumble in the night...he wanted it to be special. It would be the first time someone kissed her just to kiss her, the first time she wouldn't use her lips as a weapon...the one time. The only time.

"We may not get another chance at this," he said, reading her mind. "But I wanted you t' know - this is how it _should_ be."

Gambit leaned forward, and Rogue suddenly became very nervous...she'd never really done this before, while Remy was experienced at this, and then some. But she closed her eyes when his lips met hers, and his tender kisses were patient. When she discovered there wasn't much too it, and relaxed, he became more passionate and aggressive. She welcomed the change of pace, and responded in kind.

She was disappointed when he broke away slightly. "What?"

"I was jus' thinkin'...I shoulda planned this better...as romantic as this moonlit winter scene is, we'd be more comfortable in you room..."

In spite of the hunger he clearly saw in her eyes, she was incensed by his words. "_What_?"

Rogue tried to pull away but he wasn't about to let her go. "Hey, I didn' mean it like _that_...you sure got a dirty mind for a girl who has yet to be corrupted..."

She raised an eyebrow at his claim. "You're tellin' me that the thought never entered your mind?"

"Now I didn't say that," he chuckled. "But there's a time an' place for everythin'. This ain't the time or the place. Besides, there are some things that shouldn't be rushed."

She began to lightly trace the lines of his face with her fingertips, following paths her eyes had already etched into memory. "You haven't shaved," she commented as his prickly stubble tickled her fingers. Gambit didn't respond, silently giving her the chance to do whatever it was she wanted with the time she had. It was not long before she brought his lips down to hers, and initiated another deep kiss. His hands slowly made their way up beneath her tank top, massaging her back, making no attempts to do anything more than that.

And then it happened.

The ever so slight tingling that indicated the return of her powers was felt everywhere his skin touched hers. He didn't know if she felt it as well, and chose to ignore it, kissing her as if he would never see her again.

Rogue didn't notice at first, but as her powers grew stronger, a slow but steady stream of Remy's thoughts began to pour into her head. She turned her head away in an attempt to end the kiss, but Remy leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers, more determined than ever to continue as long as possible. Rogue absorbed his resolve, and held him tighter when she should have been pushing him away.

She came to her senses when he fell to his knees, and broke away from his embrace. It was over, done. She had been shoved back into her cage, and would never be let out again. With some effort, Gambit stood and went over to where Rogue had walked, looking off into the distance with her arms crossed. Assuming that she had yet to regain the full strength of her powers, he stood before her and kissed her forehead. She put her arms around his waist and laid her head on his chest, but because most of her shoulders, and all of her arms were still exposed, he dare not hold her.

Standing there together, removed from the harsh winter weather, Gambit suddenly wondered if his gift had made things worse. When she didn't know what she was missing, she had still wanted it...but now that she had a taste, she would yearn for it more than ever. The life sentence she was serving from within the confines of her own body would be all the more austere.

He went back to the gazebo and replaced both his sweater and outerwear, then returned to Rogue and enveloped her in his trench coat. They stood like that for a long time.

* * *

(1) - Excerpt from _Save the Best for Last_, by Vanessa Williams 


	6. Tourniquet

**Part 6 - Tourniquet**

_...I lay dying,  
And I'm pouring  
Crimson regret and betrayal._

_I'm dying,  
Praying,  
Bleeding,  
I'm screaming..._

_Am I too lost to be saved?  
Am I too lost...? _(1)

Her powers were a conundrum, an enigma wrapped in a puzzle that lived in her very skin. A blessing and a curse. She had inherited a gene that triggered her mutation at puberty, and became a freak of nature...with the innate ability to steal the memories, powers, and life force of anyone she touched. She was a real life vampire that fed on people's souls. What good was that? What kind of gift did she have? 

Lying on the cold floor, Rogue stared at the ceiling as she went over her life with a fine toothed comb...her memories consisted of a relatively balanced amount of pain and joy, good times and bad. She had made mistakes, but who didn't? Looking back, even the ones that had at one time seemed heinous were now small and insignificant. There were exceptions, of course, and she had regrets. Most of all, she regretted pushing Mystique's petrified body off a cliff. She hadn't forgiven her foster mother for what she had put her through, but Rogue knew that her impulsive act was vicious, and made her no better than the woman she had lashed out against.

Reviewing her life didn't take as long as she expected...she supposed it was because it hadn't been very long...but she still had time, and inadvertently focused on what had happened a month ago, when Gambit gave her a present that became a source of both great pleasure and intense pain. Another conundrum. Her dreams had been haunted by the kiss he never should've given her, and they were always the same - Gambit would walk up to her and begin kissing her without a word...time and again she was shocked that she wasn't absorbing him, but chose to take advantage of the situation...they'd inevitably end up in her room, and even as he gently placed her on the bed, she was willing to let him do whatever he wanted...at which point the dream ended, and she woke up more depressed than before.

But her dreams had also been plagued by violence...knives, claws, axes, all coming after her. And the blood...all that blood pouring out of her veins...she blamed her love of horror movies, and the recent marathon of movie firsts - _Halloween_, _Nightmare on Elm Street_, _Texas Chain saw Massacre_, _Friday the 13th_ - was probably responsible. She had stayed up late with a large bowl of popcorn and a bottle of Coke to enjoy the blood and guts fest, so it was no surprise when the nightmares began the following night. But she found the alternating "kiss" and "die" dreams especially disturbing.

She began to think about her life again...and became increasingly critical of her actions. All the things she should've done, could've done, would've done if only she had the chance. But it was too late now, the past was past, it was dead. Nothing could be changed.

* * *

"Can't catch me," Kitty squealed, rocketing up the stairs. 

"Wanna bet?" Kurt replied, running after her.

Gambit shook his head and hung his trench coat in the nearby closet. It had been a long, though amusing, night. With most of the adults gone - the professor and Storm had taken the X-Jet to Europe to do some kind of research, Beast was attending a science convention in NYC thanks to his new image inducer, and Jean and Scott had already returned to their respective colleges - it was only Logan and the kids. Gambit was now an X-Man; although there hadn't been any formal ceremony to that effect, his involvement with the group had increased to the point where it was only natural to consider him one of the team. He still needed his space, however, and opted to keep his own apartment off the premises, though he often found himself crashing in a spare room. In fact, he would be staying there for the next week or so, at professor's request, to help Logan keep an eye on the X-kiddies. Gambit thought that Rogue would've lent a hand as well - she had graduated high school 6 months ago, and was "taking a year off" - but she had been especially moody ever since he kissed her, so he and Logan pretty much left her alone.

They had all just returned from a night at the mall, something that their younger counterparts appreciated much more than they did. Gambit was tired of paying chaperone, though he suspected Logan was even more so, but indulged his high school teammates, allowing himself to be dragged into this store and that, and pretending to be interested when the girls asked his advice on which outfit looked best or what color eye shadow they should purchase. Logan was a little less tolerant, but still surprised Gambit with the amount of patience he exhibited during the shopping spree.

Upon pulling the vehicles into the garage, Logan had jumped out and announced he was going for a walk...not that Gambit blamed him. He needed a break as well. After Kitty and Kurt raced up the stairs, he too made his way up the main staircase and walked down the hall until he reached Rogue's door. She hadn't wanted to go out with the rest of them, which wasn't exactly a shocker, and Gambit just wanted to make sure she was all right. He knocked lightly, and cautiously opened the door when she didn't answer. No one was there. He closed the door behind him and went up to the third floor, where "his" room was, along with the other adults', hoping that she'd be in there waiting for him. But again he was welcomed by an empty room. He turned around and was heading back downstairs when Kitty unexpectedly phased through a wall and backed into him.

"Better watch where you're goin', petite, you might..." his voice trailed off when he saw the unmistakable look of terror on her face. "What?"

She just stared at him, her eyes wide and mouth agape, unable to speak.

Gambit grabbed her arms and shook her. "What is it, Kitty? Somethin' in there?" he asked, motioning to the wall she had come through with his head.

She managed a nod, and he walked down the hall a few feet to the door and tried the knob. Locked. He was going to pick it, but thought better of it...if there was someone in there, they didn't belong...he should try to get a drop on them. He grabbed a few cards from his pocket and prepared to charge them. "Get me through the wall," he demanded, taking her hand.

But she just stood there, frozen. "Come on, I'll protect you." He pushed on the wall with the hand that held the cards. "Phase...now..." Suddenly the wall was no longer solid to the touch, and they walked through it as if it wasn't there.

The room was dark and cold...too cold. French doors leading out to a balcony were wide open, the long sheer curtains framing the doorway fluttering in the January breeze. Not far from the doors was a figure lying awkwardly on the floor, surrounded by a large dark pool of blood, which was black in the moonlight.

Gambit dropped the cards - which he had luckily not charged - as Rogue painfully turned her head to face them. She had made it...she wanted to see him one last time before she died, and here he was...

If she had been able to speak, she wouldn't have been able to explain what had happened...she was in her room when she heard a noise upstairs, and went to investigate. When she walked past the professor's open door, she noticed that the French doors were open. She had just stepped into the room when she was ambushed. She didn't know how many people attacked her or what kinds of weapons they used, and remembered little of the attack itself...the next thing she knew, she was on the floor in excruciating pain, bleeding and broken, unable to do anything but think about the life that was slipping away...

Gambit was just coming out of shock when Kurt teleported into the room. "Gotcha!" he declared proudly, grabbing Kitty before he saw Rogue. "Oh my God, Rogue..."

Gambit threw his arm out to stop Kurt from rushing over to her. "The downstairs closet, my coat, right hand pocket," he instructed quietly. Kurt was gone for a few seconds, and returned with his full fingered black gloves, which he handed to Gambit. Slipping on the gloves, he walked through the puddle and knelt next to his girlfriend's mangled body, covered with so much blood he couldn't tell where her clothing ended and her bare skin began. He gingerly picked her torso off the floor and cradled her in his arms. He briefly considered letting her absorb him, but dismissed the idea...her injuries were obviously so severe that she wouldn't survive much longer, his life force would do little more than prolong her suffering...and prevent her from spending her last moments with him. He began to sing a lullaby from his childhood, one that he learned by eavesdropping on a local woman's nightly serenade to her children.

Rogue forced her head back, so she could look into his eyes...she was fading, night was falling, soon there'd be nothing left...and as her petty regrets poured through her, they moved from general ones regarding the X-Men - she should've been nicer to Jean, she should've been more patient with Kitty and Kurt - towards regrets concerning the most recent addition to the X-Men...the one who had picked her up off the dirty floor and did his best to comfort her even as her life ebbed...the one who loved her in spite of the fact he couldn't touch her...if she had the energy, she would've cried for the future they could've shared, but all her energy was focused on one goal - to live as long as possible.

Woulda.

Coulda.

Shoulda.

There was so much she still wanted to say, to do, to feel...as Gambit sang the French tune, his deep voice softer and gentler than she had ever heard it, as if he was afraid he might injure her further with the sound of his voice, she saw such love and compassion in his eyes that she was determined to tell him how she felt about him...but when she tried to speak, she could only produce a sickening gurgling sound.

It was Rogue's attempt to talk that helped Kitty find her own voice - she began to scream.

Kurt tried to quiet her while Gambit continued to sing his song, and Rogue laid helplessly in his arms, fighting death with every breath...but the pause between breaths gradually grew greater and the breaths themselves became more shallow...she was losing the battle...

Kitty's scream brought every person in the house to the still locked door. Piotr easily forced the door open, and the new recruits poured in after him. There were cries of surprise and dismay when they saw the scene, and Piotr forced the younger people out, though he remained. Logan arrived a moment later, pushing his way through the crowd of concerned kids, until he reached the dark room, where he instinctively turned on the light.

The black pool became a bright crimson that covered Rogue from head to toe, though there were patches of brown where the blood had dried. Gambit saw the light in her eyes dim, and a steady stream of tears began to run down his face, though he sang his song still. Rogue's senses had deteriorated - she could no longer hear his voice or feel his arms around her, and could barely make out his silhouette in the increasing darkness. Even her thoughts had been reduced to a couple lines of a song repeating over and over, "My wounds cry for the grave...my soul cries for deliverance..." (2)

Logan rushed to Rogue's side just as her eyelids began to flutter - her last attempt at staving off death. Without hesitation, fully aware of the consequences, he ripped off his gloves and placed his hands on her face. He had never touched her before, and felt the ever so slight tickling of what was left of her powers. It was encouraging that they were still functioning despite her condition.

He caught Gambit's eye while he still could. "Don't let her beat herself up over this...it's my choice."

"I'd do it if I could," Gambit replied, and Logan nodded. He knew the Cajun would. He also knew that Gambit wouldn't interfere with his sacrifice.

Rogue's eyes closed for what she thought would be the last time, her remaining sensations fading as she drifted into a comfortable numbness that was bathed in light...but she was suddenly yanked back, as if someone was pulling on an invisible rope tied around her waist. And the pain she had stopped feeling long ago returned in a slow but steady stream until she was in agony. But it came with another unfamiliar feeling - one of her bones mending and her skin knitting itself together...she felt herself healing.

Even before she opened her eyes, she understood what was going on. When saw she was right, she tried to struggle, but still lacked the strength to move. Her eyes the only way to communicate, she begged Gambit with a entreating look to stop Wolverine, but he either didn't understand, or refused to comply.

By now her sense of time was completely screwed up, so she didn't know how long she sucked the life out of Wolverine before his healing powers had sufficiently kicked in to allow her to talk. "No..." she moaned. "Stop..."

Neither Logan nor Gambit responded, so she turned her head to see who else was in the room. Kurt was holding Kitty, who was sobbing, and Piotr was just behind them. Rogue tried to pry Logan's hands off herself, but she was still too weak, and even with his own life flowing out of him, he was too strong for her. "Please," she pleaded, "stop him..."

Piotr, who until then was too shy to act as any kind of authority figure, approached the scene hesitantly. While Rogue seemed to be recovering, he was afraid that if she didn't absorb enough of Logan's powers, she would die in spite of his efforts. Still, he had not forgotten their brief conversation, and knew that her nightmare of accidentally sucking someone dry was rapidly becoming a reality. His eyes moved from Gambit, whose gaze hadn't left Rogue's face, to Logan, whose eyes were rolling into the back of his head as he clenched his teeth and willed himself to hold on, and finally to Rogue, whose resolve was strong even though her body was weak.

"You promised..." she whispered, her gloved hand tugging at his sleeve.

"I did," he replied, and pried Logan's hands off her face. The smaller man fell backwards into unconsciousness, and Rogue struggled to stand.

"Get yer hands off me," she growled, feebly pushing Gambit away. "How could you...?" But the dizziness and nausea were too much, and though her wounds had healed, the blood that she'd lost had yet to be replaced. Her legs gave out and she mumbled something else, but she was out before Gambit caught her.

* * *

Everything grew quiet in the room that had become a battlefield, even Kitty's sobs had dissipated. Gambit's mind flew into action...this type of scene wasn't exactly new to a man who spent a good part of his life fighting against a gang called the Rippers. The smell of death hung thick in the air, and he knew that both of his fallen teammates were still in danger. 

"Piotr, get Logan to the infirmary...Kurt, I need you to get in touch with whoever you can - preferably the professor, but McCoy, Summers, Jean...anybody you can find." The men left, and Gambit turned to Kitty, who was calmer, but clearly on the verge of hysteria. "I need you to clean Rogue up."

"But," she began, getting all worked up, "like...I mean..."

"I can't do this without you," he said firmly. "I need you to wash her up the best you can, and then come find me, ok?"

She nodded, and followed him into the bathroom, where he placed Rogue in the tub. "I'm going to make sure the others are ok...do you want me to ask one of the girls to help you?"

_"Get it together, girl,"_ Kitty scolded herself. _"You're an X-Man...you're supposed to be able to handle things like this..."_ She took a deep breath. "No," she replied, her voice a little stronger. "I don't want them to see her like this. I can handle it."

"Just be careful...put a pair of those yellow rubber cleaning gloves on so you don't touch her."

Still covered in Rogue's blood, he left the women in the bathroom and returned to the hall where the new recruits were still gathered, talking in hushed tones. "I want everyone to get ready for bed, and report to the living room...no one sleeps alone tonight." He paused for a moment and spoke again. "In fact, I want everyone to buddy up. No one goes anywhere alone."

The teenagers scattered to their rooms, frightened by a combination of the little they had seen and the tone of Gambit's voice. He walked into what would've been a crime scene, if the police had been called, and did a quick walk through. The French doors weren't broken, the lock wasn't damaged in any way...there was no evidence of forced entry. He had seen enough police shows to know that he shouldn't touch anything, but he closed the doors anyway...it was far too cold to keep them open. He wanted to preserve as much of the evidence was possible, but knew that the scene had been compromised by every person who had walked into the room. Now was not the time to worry about it, though. He left then, locking the door behind him.

There were so many things to do, so many things to worry about...how had someone managed to infiltrate the Institute without setting off one of the many alarms? What would he do if they couldn't reach anyone else? He was barely an X-Man, and was surprised that his authority had yet to be challenged, but knew it was only a matter of time. How was he supposed to protect everyone else from the unknown assailant/assailants? What was he going to do about Logan? About Rogue? He was no doctor...

"Gambit," Kitty called, "I think this is as good as it's gonna get."

He returned to the bathroom, and found Rogue in the tub with a towel covering her torso. Her skin was clean, though her hair had not quite returned to its original color. Gambit took off his blood soaked sweater and undershirt, and sent Kitty down the hall for a clean top. She returned with an old sweatshirt, which he put on before lifting Rogue and carrying her to her room. He laid her on the bed, and examined her body for any open wounds, but found none. He grabbed an oversized t-shirt and pair of underwear from her dresser, and had Kitty put them on her, before heading for the infirmary.

He placed Rogue in the bed next to Logan's, and asked Piotr for an update. "How is he?"

"I have no idea," Colossus confessed, "I know there is more that should be done, but cannot do it myself."

Kitty, who had gone to check on Kurt, returned with a report. "The professor, Storm, and Jean are their way...Mr. McCoy isn't in his room, but Kurt left a message. I forgot to ask about Scott."

"Do me a favor and get Kurt back in here," Gambit said, and a few minutes later, the oldest, most experienced X-Men still standing were gathered in the infirmary.

"What's the plan?" Kurt asked nervously when he arrived, and all eyes fell on Gambit.

"The way I see it, we got more problems than these two dyin' on us...someone got past all our defenses...we'll have to keep watch tonight."

The others nodded in agreement, and he continued. "I've already told everyone else to sleep in the living room, I figure there's safety in numbers. Colossus, you and Kurt go up there and keep an eye on the kids. Kitty will stay down here and monitor the security cameras, and I'll do what I can for Logan and Rogue."

No one complained about their assignments, so Gambit decided he had a decent job delegating. "Try to get them to go to sleep...I want them in school tomorrow. They didn't see much, did they?"

"Not more than a glimpse," Piotr asserted, "I got them out of there as soon as I could."

"Good," Gambit said. "Do you think you guys can manage to stay up?"

"After all this...no problem." Kurt replied, glancing at Logan and Rogue. "I'd just have nightmares anyway."

They split up, and Gambit did his best to hook Rogue and Logan up to heart monitors. He also put them both on IVs, thought that proved more difficult. His experience as a member of the Thieves Guild came in handy, as their scuffles with the Rippers often ended in bloodshed. Neither gang was eager to send its members to a hospital, so they routinely tended to their own wounds.

Not knowing how long it would take for help to arrive, Gambit kept himself busy by regularly checking in with the others and keeping an eye on his patients. But it was not enough...his mind wandered as he sat in the infirmary.

_"How could you...?"_

Rogue's words weighed heavily on him. How could he what? Let Logan save her life? How could he not? Didn't she know that he would've done the same thing if his powers allowed it? He would gladly trade his life for hers in a heartbeat...and felt guilty enough that his contribution to her rescue had been so insignificant without her accusing him of...whatever it was she was accusing him of.

* * *

Her dream was always the same. Gambit entered and began kissing her...but this one was different. She was absorbing him, so she tried to pull away, but he refused to let go. All his memories, his powers, his life rushing into her...but she opened her eyes and it wasn't Gambit at all...it was Logan. Confused, she broke the kiss, but he grabbed her face with his bare hands, and she continued to absorb him. She was screaming for him to stop, but he wasn't listening to her...and then suddenly they were surrounded by a crowd of people - X-Men, new recruits, the Brotherhood, the Acolytes, classmates - they just stood there and watched, like a bunch of mindless zombies. Logan fell to the ground, and then Gambit walked out from the crowd and kissed her until he fell...then Kurt grabbed her face and fell...then Kitty...then Piotr...a pile of lifeless bodies were at her feet, yet the crowd continued to reach out to her, and one by one each fell onto the pile... 

Rogue shot up in bed, covered with sweat and gasping for breath. The professor rolled over to her. "Rogue, are you all right?"

"Yeah...ah...it was a dream..." she began, momentarily relieved...until she saw Logan in the bed next to her. She looked at the professor. "It wasn't a dream..."

"I'm afraid not. How are you feeling?"

"Ah'm ok," she stated, pulling the covers off her.

"No," he said. She stopped what she was doing and waited. "I'd like to do a few tests before I let you get out of bed."

"Fine," she growled, getting back in bed. She was not in the best of moods, but she was willing to let him do his silly tests. Once he had poked and prodded her to his content, Professor X asked her to rest a few more minutes before venturing out of bed.

Rogue rolled on her side, closed her eyes, and reviewed everything that had happened. Her thoughts wandered until they rested on her mutation. The one thing that separated her from the rest of the world was the one thing that saved her life. She had an epiphany then, finally understanding the blessing and curse that was her power. She was a killer. Rogue opened her eyes and stared at the comatose Logan across the room. Her gift was death.

* * *

(1), (2) - Excerpt from _Tourniquet_, by Evanescence 


	7. Numb

**Part 7 - Numb**

_I've become so numb  
I can't feel you there,  
Become so tired  
So much more aware..._ (1)

In the days that followed the attack, Rogue's personality was overshadowed by Logan's, making her even more irritable and detached than usual. The first time someone annoyed her, which wasn't particularly hard given the state she was in, bone claws unexpectedly ripped out of the back of her hands...and so the X-Men learned that Logan's claws were not pure adimantium, but rather, a natural part of his mutation that was coated with the indestructible metal when the rest of his skeleton had been tampered with.

Once his personality had sufficiently worn off, Rogue wandered the halls of the mansion like a ghost - without speaking to or looking at anyone she came across. She became an empty shell, void of emotion, unwilling to do anything more than go through the motions of staying alive. She ate, drank, breathed, slept, but did little else. She continued her habit of covering most of her body, but inexplicably left her hands and feet bare. Everyone stayed out of her way...after several attempts at coaxing her into conversation, they decided to keep their distance and left her alone to deal with whatever inner demons she was facing.

Gambit was tremendously distressed by her behavior. She was distancing herself from the people who loved her in every way possible. Even though he knew that leaving the rogue alone was sometimes the best way to help her, he continued his attempts to get through to her. Time and again he was silently rebuffed by the lifeless glass eyes, a doll's eyes, that saw him without seeing him.

He was quick to share his concerns with the professor, who had a million other things on his mind. "Give her time," he urged as he worked with Beast to upgrade the security system.

But he felt like he was running out of time...or, more accurately, _she_ was running out of time. Logan was still in a coma, and showed no indication of recovering, though his life signs were stable. Jean, who was already determined to become a doctor and had been volunteering at a hospital near her college, was taking care of him. The older X-Men, the ones that knew Rogue best, were surprised that she didn't keep a constant vigil at the bedside of her mentor...but most wrote it off as just another eccentricity that stemmed from her near-death experience.

_"If Logan was awake, he'd know what to do,"_ Gambit thought. After all, he was the source of the foreign memories floating around Rogue's head...maybe they were the cause of her strange conduct. But while he considered it a possibility, he didn't think this was the case. There was something else troubling her...something so painful or traumatic that she had shut herself off from the rest of the world. She was obviously upset that Logan was in a coma, especially since she was the cause, but Gambit thought there had to be more to it. And for the life of him, he couldn't figure out what.

In lieu of helping her, he spent most of the day silently shadowing her. Of course, by the next day, he had thrown out this idea, as she spent the majority of the previous one locked in her room. Instead, he turned his focus on the "crime scene," which was still cordoned off. Other than the fact that the bloodstains were long dry and the French doors were closed, the room was exactly the way it had been the night of the attack. Gambit took his time going over every inch of the floor, but found nothing. There weren't any bloody fingerprints on the walls, no bloody footprints...it was impossible that whoever did this escaped without getting any gore on him/her/them. The lack of clues didn't make any sense. He reexamined the French doors, this time taking a closer look at the lock. He still didn't see any evidence of tampering, which either meant that the intruder was a master lock picker or...Gambit stood up straight. _"Or he didn' come in through the French doors."_ All this time everyone had assumed that the individual/individuals who attacked Rogue made their entrance through the French doors...but what if that wasn't the case at all? What if he/she/they came in another window? Or even the front door? What if he/she/they only _left_ through the French doors? Better yet - what if the open doors were just a red herring...what if no one had gone through them at all? As a variety of possibilities bombarded his brain, Gambit was struck by yet another theory - what if the doors had been opened to prolong Rogue's suffering? Once the professor and Beast had looked at the physical evidence and spoken to witnesses, including Rogue, they decided that her wounds were probably relatively shallow. As a result, she had bled slowly, almost as if her assailant intended her death to be as long and painful as possible...if he/she/they opened the French doors to lower the room temperature, it would have also decreased Rogue's body temperature and slowed her bleeding.

The X-Men had enemies, but none were cruel enough to do something like this...or were they? Was Rogue the target, or was she just a convenient victim? Did someone try to kill her to send the rest of them a message, or was it directed at one of them in particular? There was something all wrong about this...something didn't fit. Until he figured out what it was, his questions would remain unanswered. As for suspects, he had his own ideas, but couldn't come up with a decent motive for any of them, so he kept them to himself for the time being.

With more questions than answers, Gambit left the room and locked the door behind him, before checking in on Rogue. He found her door uncharacteristically open, and her room empty, so he checked a few other rooms, namely the bathrooms, kitchen, and infirmary, but still no Rogue. His perturbation growing by the second, he informed the professor that he was unable to find her, and the leader of the X-Men telepathically instructed his students to search the Institute for her. But it was to no avail.

She was gone.

* * *

Wanda was listening to music in her room when she heard a crash downstairs. It wasn't unusual for her teammates to break things during their frequent scuffles, but she was rapidly getting sick of all the mindless destruction. She turned off her CD player and stormed down the stairs. "Can't you guys go for five minutes without..."

Toad jumped at her, knocking her down in mid-sentence. "Shhhhh..." he hissed in her face.

"Get off me, slimeball," she demanded, pushing him off her and attempting to stand.

"Get down," he replied, yanking her arm and forcing her back to the ground. "We're under attack."

"What are you talking about?" she asked, lowering her voice.

"It's the X-Men."

Wanda glanced around the room...the large picture window had a gaping hole in it; amongst the shattered glass on the floor was a large rock. Just then, Lance and Pietro, wandered in from the kitchen. "I'm sorry, we interruptin' somethin'? Lance asked with a sly grin.

Pietro looked past the "happy" couple on the floor and noticed the broken glass. "Hey, what happened?"

Wanda squirmed out of Toad's grasp and walked over to the window. Rogue was standing in the middle of their front lawn in a black cloak. "It's Rogue..."

"Oh my God, I told you," Toad began, a touch of panic in his voice. "Man, she's the worst one, the way she just touches you and then..." he shuddered at his memories of her taking his powers.

Lance joined Wanda at the window to see for himself, while she turned to her brother for an explanation of their absence. "Where were you guys when all this was goin' on?"

Pietro held up a bowl of freshly made popcorn in response.

"Don't worry," Lance assured Toad, "I'll take care of her..."

"Wait," Wanda said, grabbing his arm, "this doesn't make any sense...I mean, think about it a minute. When have the X-Men ever attacked us without provocation?" She bent down and picked up the rock. "And since when do they throw rocks through windows?"

"You've got a point, sis," Pietro admitted. "Give me a few seconds to check things out." Quicksilver put the bowl on a nearby table, and was back only seconds after he left. "She's alone."

"There's something very wrong here," Wanda said, heading for the front door.

Toad jumped in front of her, blocking her path. "Don't go out there, there might be more of 'em."

"I said there wasn't," Pietro growled. "You callin' me a liar?"

"Guys, if there's a bunch of X-Men out there, we can't afford to fight amongst ourselves," Lance jumped in.

"Now _you're_ callin' me a liar?"

Wanda sighed in disgust and opened the door while the boys duked it out...but the yard was empty. She boldly walked over to where Rogue had been standing and retrieved he dark piece of cloth that she'd left behind, then returned to the house. She went up to her room and turned the music back on...but she couldn't regain her previous sense of contentment. The cloak she had draped over a chair silently implored her to do something. After a half hour of debating whether or not she should get involved, Wanda grabbed the article of clothing and once again headed downstairs.

The boys had hurriedly taped a piece of plastic over the window, and were currently focusing their attention on the TV. If she wanted the glass replaced, she was going to have to arrange it herself...but not now. Now she had more important things to do.

"Lance, can I borrow your jeep?"

"Sure," he said, his eyes glued to the screen. "You know where the keys are..."

"Thanks," she muttered, grabbing the keys. "Later."

The others mumbled distracted good-byes, but Toad followed her outside. "Where ya goin'?"

"Out."

"No kiddin'...out where?"

"Outta your sight."

Todd Tolensky was used to Wanda's rebuffs, and each harsh word only made him more determined to win her heart. He liked her...a lot. He'd do just about anything for her. Except leave her alone. "Come on, cuddlebug, don't be like that."

"Why don't you just go back inside and make yourself a fly sandwhich...?"

" 'Cause there's a X-Man runnin' around throwing rocks...someone's gotta protect you."

"I can take care of myself."

"I know that...it's just...y'know, there's safety in numbers."

Considering how scared he was of Rogue, Wanda knew how difficult it was for him to volunteer to accompany her. This somewhat heroic gesture made her soften a little towards him. "Fine...but I'm only letting you come 'cause I know you'll just follow me anyway."

"Sweet," he said cheerfully, hopping into the passenger side. "Where we goin'?"

"You'll see."

Ten minutes later they pulled up to the gates in front of Xavier's Institute. "Are you kiddin' me...what're we doin' here?"

"There's something wrong with Rogue...somebody should tell them."

"And how do you plan on gettin' in? It's not like we can just ring the doorbell and they'll let us in..."

Wanda rolled down the window and pressed the button on the intercom. "Hello...?"

The camera on the gate focused on them, and a quiet male voice responded to her greeting. "Wanda, how can we help you?"

She hadn't really thought this through, and didn't know what she should say. "Um...I need to talk to someone about...Rogue. She came by and..."

She wasn't given the opportunity to finish. The gates in front of them opened, and Wanda drove the jeep to the front steps of the mansion. "What d'ya know," Toad commented as they walked up the steps, "it worked."

Before she could respond, the door opened. When Toad saw Gambit, he cowered behind Wanda. The Cajun glanced at him before giving Wanda a puzzled look. "Some protector you turned out to be," she murmured before entering the building.

The two were escorted to the den, where Professor X and the other X-Men anxiously awaited some kind of news about Rogue. Wanda handed over the cloak, and described what had happened. She saw their disappointment when they discovered that she had only the barest of facts to relay, and regretted that she couldn't tell them more.

"She had this crazy look in her eyes," Toad announced when she was done. "Like she was gonna..."

"You're exaggerating," Wanda interrupted, annoyed. "She didn't look crazy, she looked..." she paused, searching for the right word. "She had a blank expression...it was almost like she was lost, but didn't care."

"It was creepy," Toad offered.

"It was," she agreed. "I was gonna talk to her, but by the time I went out there, she was gone."

Although Lance and Kitty had been growing apart in the past few months, they were still somewhat of an item, and as such, Kitty had the most contact with the members of the Brotherhood...she knew how hard it must have been for Wanda to cross team lines and bring them this information. In return, she felt like someone should give her an idea of what was going on, to show their appreciation. "She left sometime yesterday...we haven't been able to find her..."

"Kitty!" Kurt exclaimed, uncomfortable with her divulging any information relating to their problems.

"It's all right, Kurt," the professor said patiently. "Wanda and Todd have come here on their own accord, in an attempt to help. It's only fair we fill them in on some of the more pertinent fact surrounding our situation."

Once a brief description of Rogue's behavior and disappearance had been explained - leaving out the mysterious attack, Logan's coma, and Rogue's brush with death - Wanda turned the professor inquisitively. "I don't understand...can't you just read her mind or something?"

"When Rogue absorbs someone, she also absorbs their memories and personalities...because of this, it's difficult for me to get into her head unless she volunteers to let me in. Furthermore, Cerebro can only identify the general location of a mutant, and then only if that mutant is using his or her powers."

"If there's anything we can do..." she offered.

"Yeah," Toad jumped in. "I mean, we got nothin' better to do..."

Wanda glared at him, irritated at his insensitive addition to her sincere remarks. "We could always use an extra set of eyes or two," the professor said. "If you don't mind driving around looking for her."

"Count us in."

* * *

Gambit rose early the next morning. Today was Sunday. Rogue had been AWOL since Friday night. They would continue their search, but he knew it would once again be fruitless. If Rogue didn't want to be found, she wouldn't be, case closed. After eating a quick breakfast and checking on Logan, Gambit went to the roof. _"Let them run around chasing their tails,"_ he thought to himself. He was going to stay behind today...just in case she decided to come back...as unlikely as that might be.

He watched as Wanda and Todd drove up in Lance's jeep, mildly surprised that they had decided to join the hunt. Several minutes later, groups of X-Men in a variety of vehicles departed to begin another day's worth of pointless searching.

Around 11:30, the professor's voice snuck into his head. _"Gambit, you have a phone call."_

It was James Wallington; Gambit had informed him of Rogue's absence, and asked him to keep an eye out for her. Apparently, someone had broken into The Dungeon some time during the night, but nothing seemed to be missing. Although they had no proof it was her, both men surmised that Rogue had spent the night in her favorite hangout, if for no other reason than to keep from freezing to death, since the temperature had dropped to the single digits. Gambit thanked him for the information and hung up.

The good new was that she had enough sense to stay out of the cold. The bad new was that she was still gone.

He was making his way back to the roof when Jean contacted him telepathically. _"Gambit, Logan's awake...he's asking for you."_

__ "Wonderful," Gambit muttered to himself as he descended to the mansion's lower levels. "I get t'be the one who tells him about what's goin' on..."

He entered the infirmary, where Jean studying the readings of one of the many machines. She looked up when she heard his footsteps, and approached him. "He's still pretty weak," she warned in a hushed voice, "but he'll be good as new in a day or two...still, try not to get him too worked up."

Jean abandoned him then, and Gambit was left to be the bearer of bad news alone. He sat in the chair next to the only occupied bed in the room, and Logan turned his head to face him. "How's the kid?"

"Didn' you ask Jean?" he asked, stalling.

"I'm not askin' Jean, I'm askin' you."

Gambit was going to have to word his response carefully. "Physically, she's fully recovered...in fact, right after you...did what you did, I checked her for wounds, and they'd already healed. We just had to wait for her body to replace all the blood she'd lost. After a day of bed rest, she was up an' around."

"What about the rest of her?"

"Huh?"

"Don't play dumb with me, physical scars ain't the only ones we're dealin' with here."

Gambit took a deep breath. "She ran away."

Logan nodded. "I'm not surprised...when?"

"Two nights ago."

"Tell me everything..."

Finally able to confer with the one man who might know what Rogue was going through, Gambit told him everything that had happened in the week before she left, down to the smallest detail. Logan listened patiently, and said nothing until he was finished.

"They're not gonna find her."

"I know...why d'you think I'm not out there with 'em?"

"But," Logan continued, "You better hope she turns up soon, before..."

Gambit waited for him to finish, but he didn't. "Before what?"

Realizing he had said too much, Logan clammed up. "Nothin'."

"Oh no, you're not gonna pull that nothin' crap on me...what aren't you tellin' me?"

"She might try an' hurt herself."

"No...Rogue's not that kind of girl."

"_She's_ not. But with _my_ memories, _my_ personality, _my_ rage..." his voice trailed off, and he sighed. "I know what she's doin'...she's copin' with her feelings by shutting herself off. That's how I deal with...well, let's just say that's the way I keep my more animalistic tendencies under control. An' it works for me. But I've also mastered it...when my emotions are dangerous, I know how to handle 'em...and when they're not, when it's safe, I can let my guard down."

Gambit thought back to the bayou, when Logan had nearly taken his head off...and he remembered the look in the other man's eyes. It was the look of a wild animal whose young had been snatched by another. It faded when Rogue voiced her objection to Logan's intended action, but there was still a glimmer of feral protectiveness even as he released him. "So what're you sayin'?"

"She's buried her feelin's down so deep that she can't find them anymore. An' she'll do anythin' to get 'em out..."

* * *

John Allerdyce was bored out of his mind. Sitting in the control room watching movies in the building that had once been the Acolytes' center of operations had finally lost its charm. He stood up and stretched. He needed to get out...set a stray cat's tail on fire or something. He had hung around all day waiting for a call about a job, but the phone had yet to ring. Another day wasted. He was about to go to his room to change out of his uniform when something caught his eye. Motion. His eyes excitedly scanned the seven small screens attached to security cameras that were scattered around the warehouse, hoping to spot an intruder he could have some fun with. But whoever, or whatever, he had seen moving out of the corner of his eye was camera shy.

Determined to get the drop on his mystery guest, Pyro ran up to the roof and surveyed the area below. He wasn't really expecting to find anything...a bum wandering around in a drunken haze, maybe. Those guys came around often enough, but he usually left them alone. They were easy targets, too helpless for him to get any pleasure out of hassling. Just as he was about to give up, he saw Rogue's head poking up above crate.

Pyro suppressed a giggle. Things were lookin' up. This wasn't the first time she'd dropped by without an invitation, but this time the joke was on her...he spotted her before she could sneak in and pull any of her absorbing nonsense.

Quickly and quietly he made his way down from the roof by leaping on shorter and shorter stacks of crates until he jumped in front of her, fires blazing from both wrists, ready to singe her within an inch of her life. "So...ya thought ya could just waltz on in and..."

His stopped his clever speech and extinguished his flames, his mouth dropping open ever so slightly. Rogue stood before him motionless, wearing a black tank top and shorts. She didn't flinch when he had threatened her. This was not the same woman he had faced before. "Hey...are you all right?"

A blank stare was her only response.

"If this is some kind a' trick..."

She blinked. There was no recognition, no feeling, no life in her once bright green eyes.

Confused, but concerned, Pyro scooped her up and brought her inside.

* * *

The sun was setting when the troops regrouped at the Institute - still no sign of Rogue. While they tried to decide what, if anything, should be done next, Pyro walked up to the front gates.

He had kept her in the warehouse in front of a blazing fire, provided by himself, of course, until he was satisfied that she had sufficiently warmed up. Then he put a pair of thick socks on her feet, wrapped her in a blanket, and carried her over to the Institute. It was a long walk on a cold day, but he didn't want to chance putting her on the back of his bike...in her state he wasn't sure she'd hold on to him. Besides, he was the master of fire, lord of the flames...whenever he got tired, he'd set her down and create a circle of fire around them.

When he reached the gate, he had a couple of options...but since he thought he'd never have the chance again, he decided to make a game out of it. After carefully putting Rogue down, and making sure she'd stand on her own, Pyro pointed his flame throwers at the gates. With a gleeful giggle, he threw a huge fireball at the metal, instantly melting it into a mangled pile of useless junk.

"Now wasn't that fun?" he asked Rogue, picking her back up.

Some of the X-Men had seen the fireball, but those who had not were informed of the intruder by the alarms echoing through the mansion's halls. Everyone waited, their muscles tense, ready for the professor's instructions. Logan wandered over to the control room, where Storm and Gambit were flipping through every security camera's feed until they came to the one they wanted.

"Pyro..." he growled behind them, his claws coming out with a _snikt_.

"I'm goin' out," Gambit said quietly. "Alone."

"Like hell you are..."

"Five minutes. That's all I need."

Gambit took the elevator up to the ground floor and walked out the front door. He had once told Rogue that he and John weren't friends...that wasn't exactly true. While they weren't exactly bosom buddies, they got along better than any of the other Acolytes, and had spent many a night in bars just hanging out. So he knew there was more to Pyro than just a psychotic little firebug looking to torch everything under the sun. Still, he had several decks of cards in assorted pockets, and his collapsed bo-staff in his hand as he approached his former teammate on the front lawn. Just in case.  
"John...long time no see."

"Ah...you're a good guy now? Neva woulda guessed."

"Yeah, well, you know me, always a sucker for a pretty face."

Pyro looked down at Rogue. "I thought the pretty faces were always a sucka for you."

Gambit stopped where he was, a few feet from Pyro. "Things change."

Pyro's eyes had a touch of resentment in them when he looked up. "Apparently."

"I didn' come out here to fight you, homme."

An insane laugh erupted from his lips. "You think I came here to fight?" He walked up to Gambit and handed Rogue over. "If I wanted to roast the sheila, I would've saved myself the trouble of walkin' all the way ova here and done it on my own turf. Besides," he continued, backing off, "the girl's obviously not right in the head...that's not a fair fight, mate."

"Thanks," Gambit said, turning back to the house.

"Hey...wait. What's wrong with her?"

Gambit didn't answer. The older X-Men rushed out of the building, eager to make sure Rogue was all right, while the new recruits were instructed to hang back. Logan led the pack, and though he had not fully recovered, he was a force to be reckoned with. After motioning to Gambit to put her down, Logan roughly grabbed her wrist and dragged her across the lawn. Everyone followed him without a word...even Pyro joined the crowd of onlookers, his curiosity getting the best of him.

They ended up on the side of the pool. Logan let go of Rogue, who had dropped the blanket and was standing there in nothing more than her skimpy outfit and Pyro's socks, and tore the plastic blue tarp off the top of the pool, only to find the water coated with a thick layer of ice. His eyes skimmed the crowd until he found who he was looking for.

"Hey, pyromaniac, come here."

Pyro proudly stepped forward. "What can I do for ya?"

"Melt the ice," he said, pointing to the pool. "But don't warm up the water."

"No problem." Using only his right hand, he sprayed flames over the frozen coating for a few seconds.

"Good."

Logan grabbed Rogue once again and flung her into the deep end.

Even though the others had suspected he was going to do something like that, they were nonetheless astonished when he actually did it. Gambit went to jump in after her, but Logan held him back. "Wait for it..."

Rogue sank to the bottom without much of a reaction, but after a few seconds, she came back to life. The cold water had been enough to shock her back into the real world, and the second shock of the even colder air that welcomed her when she rocketed to the surface ensured that her return was absolute. She swam to the side of the pool and climbed out of her own accord, refusing the hands that were offered to her. Gambit covered her near-naked body with his trench coat, and was thanked by a look that blazed with icy hatred.

Wanda stepped out of the small crowd to support her, and she finally allowed herself to be helped inside by several of her friends. Everyone else followed suit, except Pyro, who wandered off into the night, and Logan and Gambit, who remained at the pool.

"Is she gonna be all right?" Gambit asked.

"Yeah," Logan replied. "Eventually. But wakin' her up was the easy part...helpin' her deal with all those pent up emotions...that's gonna take time."

"Did you see the look she gave me?"

"The girl's hurtin'. Bad. She almost killed someone an' nearly died herself...at least she's startin' to let it out now."

He knew Logan was right...she'd been through a lot, and it was good for her to get it all out. But he also knew who her rage would be directed at, and he didn't understand why, of all people, it had to be him.

* * *

(1) - Excerpt from _Numb_, by Linkin Park 


	8. The Edge of Night

**Part 8 - The Edge of Night**

The next morning, Rogue quickly realized that she needed to escape again. Her reawakened emotions were stronger than anything she had ever experienced...the intensity with which she felt them, and the fact that they swept over her in a jumbled assortment, was almost worse than the horrific numbness she had recently experienced. Her teammates were no help, with their eyes full of silent pity. She wanted no part of their pity, she felt it was beneath her to even acknowledge it, yet she found herself drowning in it. She had to get out of there.

Packing a few things in a bag, she announced in front of several people that she was going out, but would be back sometime that night. God forbid she leave without telling anyone again...who knows what mass hysteria might ensue. Rogue climbed into Jean's SUV, and had just closed the door when she saw motion in the rearview mirror.

"Where y'goin?"

"It's none a' your business."

"Don't be mad at them...they're worried about you."

By then Gambit had walked over to the open driver's side window, and put his hand on the frame. Rogue avoided his gaze...his eyes were the only ones she couldn't bring herself to meet. She didn't know what she'd find when she looked into them, and she didn't want to. "Ah know," she said softly. "It's just...ah need some time. To sort things out."

She saw him nod his head in her peripheral vision. "When you're ready...I'm here."

"Ah know," she repeated, turning the key in the ignition as Gambit stepped back from the car. "Don't follow me," she added before closing the window and driving off.

As Rogue drove through the gates, she had a vague sense of where she was headed. She was going the one place she could think of where she would not be pitied...or even welcome. That's what she needed, someone who would be completely indifferent to her plight, who would leave her alone, if not outright ignore her. She would have preferred somewhere completely isolated, but couldn't think of anywhere secluded, warm, and most importantly, safe. After all, someone _had_ tried to kill her. Going off to some remote location probably wasn't the best idea.

She parked the SUV next to several crates, grabbed her bag, and locked the doors. Rogue circled the building, uncertain of how to best get Pyro's attention without setting him off. She finally decided to press the buzzer next to what appeared to be the main entrance. After almost a minute, the door creaked open to reveal a suspicious looking ex-Acolyte, his right arm out in front of him, ready to fry her at the slightest provocation.

"What have we here?" he asked, lowering his arm ever so slightly.

"Ah...ah need somewhere to go," she stated, stepping over the threshold and pushing past him.

"Wait a minute..." he protested.

"Look, ah don't need a place to stay, ah just need to get away from...from the rest of 'em."

Pyro raised an eyebrow and looked her up and down. "Ya don't say."

She wasn't in the mood to play games, and started to leave. "Never mind."

He closed the door and leaned against it, trapping her. "Now hold on, mate...this is a pretty big place. I don't see why we can't share. Especially if it's just a one time thing."

"It is."

"Let me give you the fifty cent tour."

Pyro lead her through the labyrinthine halls of the mostly empty warehouse, lighting the way with a good-sized flame. He pointed out the bathroom, the kitchen, his bedroom, and the main control room. The tour ended in the living room, which consisted of a small TV on a crate, two mismatched, worn, secondhand couches, an assortment of boxes arranged to form makeshift tables, and an expensive looking sound system that looked out of place in comparison to the rest of the room. "That's about it...the rest of the rooms are empty. You can have your pick a' those."

"Ah like this one."

He shrugged. "Neva use this room myself. Take it."

Rogue threw her backpack on the couch and put her hands on her hips, waiting.

"What?"

"Ah came here to get away." Pyro tilted his head and eyed her speculatively. "From people."

"Oooooh..." he said, catching her drift. "Gotcha. Good. Well then...I'll just go back ta what I was doin'...make yourself at home. If ya need anythin', let me know."

Once he was gone, Rogue riffled through the contents of her backpack until she found the CD she wanted. She crossed the room and slid the disk into the sound system, turning up the volume until she could no longer hear her thoughts, then returned to the surprisingly comfortable couch and stretched out. As a multitude of emotions flooded through her, she closed her eyes and told herself to relax, that this was all for the best...

* * *

In spite of her assurances that this was a one-time thing, Rogue spent the days that followed her initial request in the warehouse. Pyro didn't mind the company...to be honest, he welcomed it. As antisocial as his seemingly psychotic behavior may be, he was more comfortable in the company of others...especially if one of those others was a leader-type. He was a follower, always had been, always would be. He needed someone to tell him what to do. Of course, he had derived a degree of gleeful pleasure in watching Magneto get squashed by Apocalypse, but once the novelty of his defeat had worn off, he found that he didn't know what to do with himself. The master of magnetism gone, John's loyalties had transferred to Gambit...but he had begun to show a definite interest in one of their enemies, and it wasn't long before he had moved out. Colossus was already long gone, and Sabertooth...well, that guy had some serious anger management issues. And so John Allerdyce found himself the sole inhabitant of the warehouse that had once been the home base of one of the strongest mutant terrorist groups in the world. Since then, he had been working freelance...scrounging for jobs that would pay that month's bills. Having a daily visitor was a nice change of pace. If one could call Rogue a visitor. She never sought him out, and never said anything the few times he had run into her in the hall. For his part, he left her alone to do...well...whatever she was doing.

Curiosity may have killed the cat, but after several days, John was overcome by a need to know what Rogue was doing in there all by herself. He started to make a habit of stopping by the living room while she was there, and became a silent witness to her pursuit of relief. He often found her scribbling in one of many notebooks scattered around the floor, though there were times when she simply laid on the couch or floor and stared at the ceiling. His comings and goings were masked by the music she inevitably blasted; he was fascinated by her taste in music, which ranged anywhere from classical to heavy metal.

Late one night he cautiously ventured into the dark room...he was always a little jumpy after she left; the deafening stillness she inevitably left behind made the warehouse feel like a tomb. Lighter in hand, he turned a small flame into a torch as he approached the couch, beyond which lay Rogue's assortment of notebooks and writing utensils. He was about to pick one up when a faint moan broke through the darkness. Stumbling backwards, Pyro lifted his fire wielding hand and saw Rogue curled up on the couch. Bewildered by her presence, he crept up to the sleeping girl, whose dark clothes had merged with the fabric on the couch in the dim light. Standing over her, Pyro studied her tortured face as shadows cast by his flames danced playfully across it.

"What'd they do t'ya?" he asked her quietly, but received no response.

Abandoning his mission, he left the living room and headed for the kitchen. After switching on the light and grabbing one of the few bottles in the fridge, he jumped onto the counter and took a swig of beer. This was getting serious...she'd been coming for a week, maybe longer, and now she was sleeping there. He didn't mind, but who knows what those X-freaks would think. Sure, they'd stayed back when he brought Rogue back, but that was probably because they were afraid that he'd hurt her. If they found out that Rogue was with him now, it could be disastrous. Would they think he kidnapped her? Possession was nine tenths of the law, after all...

And what was the sheila doing there anyway? Something must've happened to her, but what? Finishing off his beer, Pyro decided that there was only one way to find out...ok, so there was more than one way, but he knew that asking Rogue would be useless. He snuck into the living room, grabbed several notebooks, and returned to the kitchen. The first two appeared to be journals, full of stream-of-consciousness confessions, poems, and doodles...flipping through them, Pyro did not achieve the kind of understanding he had hoped for...in fact, skimming her journals made her more enigmatic than before. Putting those aside, he reached for another, and saw that this one was full of sketches...deeply disturbing sketches of a girl on the brink. On the brink of what, he still didn't know. They were done mostly in what looked like black crayon, though more than a few of them also had red in them. She wasn't an artist by any stretch of the imagination, but her amateur drawings evoked strong emotions in the viewer. John didn't even make it through half the book before he closed it, unable to go further. His quest for answers had led him to the abstract confessions of a troubled girl that he couldn't begin to comprehend.

He restored the notebooks to their previous positions before going to his room. Her apparent instability frightened, but at the same time, excited him. There was a sense of danger to allowing her to come there.

That night, he locked his door.

* * *

Then next morning, upon realizing that she wasn't in her room, Rogue returned to the Institute. After assuring the professor that she was fine, taking a shower, and changing, she drove back to the warehouse. As she entered the living room, she saw that someone, presumably Pyro, had straightened up. Her notebooks were in a neat pile on one box, with her pens, pencils, and crayons lined up next to them, and her CD cases were stacked next to the sound system. She also noticed that a number of blankets and a pillow had been left for her on one of the couches. A flashlight with extra batteries, a box of charcoals, and several sketch pads were lying on another crate. She hadn't expected any kind of hospitality from her fiery host, and appreciated what he had done. But she didn't thank him for the gifts. Instead, she put a CD in the player, opened her new art supplies, and went back to work.

Pyro smiled when he heard the faint sound of music all the way on the other side of the warehouse. He had seen her leave, and rushed around to make the necessary arrangements before she returned. As long as she wanted him to be invisible, he was willing to play the absent landlord...but he wanted to make sure that she didn't forget he was there. Pleased with what he thought was a successful reminder of his presence, he leaned back in his cushioned chair and turned on the big screen TV. So much to watch, so little time...

He had been flipping through the channels aimlessly for a while when a voice spoke up behind him. "I see things haven't changed around here."

"Come for your girlfriend?" Pyro asked without turning around. "It's taken ya long enough."

"She asked me not to follow her."

"So why're ya here now, mate?"

Gambit grabbed a chair from the side of the room, placed it next to his former teammate, and straddled it. " 'Cause she didn' come home last night."

Pyro shrugged. "She went back this mornin'."

"I'm worried about her."

"Ya should be...let me tell ya what she's been doin'..."

"I know," he replied pulling out a deck of cards and shuffling them in his left hand. "I stopped by the living room on the way up."

"Did ya talk ta her?"

Gambit shook his head. "She has to work this out on her own."

"Was she writin' or drawin'?"

"Writing, I think...it was hard to tell."

"The things she's been drawin'...it's like she's puttin' someone's nightmare on paper." Pyro hesitated, wondering if pressing Gambit for information would result in a confrontation, but he couldn't resist the possibility of getting some insight into her situation. "What happened to her?"

"Has Sabertooth been around?" Gambit asked absently, staring into space.

"Nah...haven't seen him for a few months."

"Good."

"Ya gonna tell me what's goin' on, or what?"

"I need you to do somethin' for me."

Pyro's patience was wearing thin. "What?"

"Keep an eye on her."

"What the hell is goin' on?"

Gambit stopped shuffling cards and looked him straight in the eye. "Someone tried to kill her, John."

There was a pause. "You're not serious." He waited for the punch line, but one never came. "Who?"

Gambit had not spoken to anyone about that night, except the professor and McCoy, and even then he had kept emotion out of it. But here, sitting with his old teammate in his old base, he suddenly had the urge to tell him everything. He put his head in his hands. "I don' know."

The typically hyper Pyro grew quiet, and waited for Gambit to continue. After thinking it over, the Cajun decided to confide in him. It was unlikely that John had anything to do with the attempt on Rogue's life, especially since there had been no trace of fire at the scene. Besides, he wasn't the type to ambush...he was the kind of guy who'd meet his foes head on, fires blazing. "She was alone at the Institute...when we got back, I couldn't find her anywhere...one of the others happened to wander into the room she was in." He looked up, and Pyro saw echoes of the horror he had felt in his eyes. "There was so much blood...she was literally torn to shreds..."

His voice faded, and Pyro found himself uncharacteristically moved by the confession. He put a hand on Gambit's arm, and encouraged him to go on. "What happened next?"

"I...I picked her up and held her...and I waited for her to die." He closed his eyes against the images that had been scorched into his mind and pulled his arm from Pyro's grasp. He took a deep breath and when he spoke again, his voice was stronger. "And then Logan came and made her absorb him. And that was that."

"No wonder the sheila's actin' the way she is."

Gambit nodded. "An' that's just a taste of what she's dealin' with."

"Ya think good ol' Sabey did it?"

"No...there's no evidence he did."

"But ya wouldn't put it past him."

"Let's just say he's on my list of suspects."

Pyro leaned back in his chair and put his feet on the control panel. "All right, then...I'll keep a closa eye on the security cameras."

"I owe you one," Gambit said, standing.

"Nah," Pyro dismissed him with a wave of his hand, "I spend most a' my time in here anyway...it's just a matter of lookin' from one screen to anotha."

Gambit left then, knowing that Rogue was in capable hands. If nothing else, Pyro was always on the lookout for something to fry...the possibility of someone coming after his guest increased the chance of his getting to do just that.

Originally, allowing Rogue to stay there had been an act of loneliness, but now Pyro was using her as bait. He giggled in anticipation over what big, bad, soon-to-be barbecued thugs she would attract. Things were starting to get interesting...

* * *

Pyro opened his eyes and listened. Nothing. He was a fairly light sleeper, so it wasn't unusual for him to wake up several times during the night. But since his conversation with Gambit that afternoon, he had been especially attentive to the world around him. He waited a few minutes, but the silence that followed assured him that nothing in particular had woken him up. Rolling over, he closed his eyes and was about to drift off to sleep when he heard something again.

He sat up in bed and concentrated...footsteps, soft but distinct, overhead. On the roof. He jumped out of bed and threw on some clothes. There was no time to put on his uniform, so he put on the first things he could get his hands on - a pair of jeans and a sweater - and grabbed his lighter on the way out. The footsteps had stopped, and Pyro made his way up to roof without a sound. As he approached the door at the top of the staircase, he heard another sound, and realized that the intruder was not a threat. He opened the door and found Rogue sitting on the raised edge of the roof, holding her knees to her chest, with her presumably bare feet tucked under her long skirt. She was singing softly into the night, and though she wasn't particularly talented, her voice had a touch of melancholy to it that gave it a special kind of beauty. Touched by the scene, Pyro stepped outside, quietly closing the door behind him. The click of the lock made her aware of his presence, she turned her head towards him and sang one more line before growing silent.

Pyro walked up to her and sat down beside her, dangling his feet over the edge. He flicked his lighter a few times, trying to come up with something to say. Her gaze had returned to the horizon, a pitch black sky littered with hundreds of pin pricks of light. "Sing it again," he requested softly.

Rogue took a deep breath, and began to sing.

"Home is behind  
The world ahead,  
And there are many  
Paths to tread.

"Through shadow,  
To the edge of night,  
Until the stars  
Are all alight.

"Mist and shadow,  
Cloud and shade.  
All shall fail,  
All shall fade..." (1)

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the lighter's flame change shape. As she sang, Pyro illustrated her words with simple images that danced before her eyes. Her voice trailed off, and he held the final form, a rose floating in a sea of darkness, with tiny sparks shimmering around it. Transfixed by the flame, Rogue slowly reached out, her fingers as long and graceful as a ballerina's. As if in a spell, she repeated the last line. "All shall..." Right before she touched the burning flower, Pyro extinguished the flame, and recognition crossed her face. "...fade..."

She wrapped her arm back around her legs and looked out into the night. Pyro didn't know what to do. They sat in silence for a long time before he spoke again. "Do ya want..." he hesitated. He couldn't believe what he was about to say. "Do ya wanna talk about it?"

Rogue moved as if to speak, but eased herself off the edge of the roof instead. She walked to the door, but when her hand touched the knob, she seemed to change her mind. Turning around, she put her hand on her hip. She was wearing black...had been since recovering from "the incident." At the moment, she was in a black turtleneck sweater that ended an inch above her waist, and a long, black, flowing skirt. Her gloves and shoes were missing. Pyro studied her in the dim light...she was a creature of the night - mysterious and solemn, wanting nothing else than to be left alone with her pain. But she unexpectedly found comfort in his silent companionship...she had felt his unseen presence every day she was there. The unspoken understanding between them had grown in to a kind of camaraderie that neither could deny. He would not pressure her to spill out her heart to him, nor would he have any pity for her if she did. For her part, she gave him a purpose, even if it was merely to lie in wait for an ambush.

"There's nothin' to say that hasn't been already said," she told him gravely before going back inside. Even so, as she walked down the stairs, she began to feel lighter, as if his simple offer had been enough to shift her mood. She was almost ready...almost. Tonight would be her last night in the Acolyte's old hideout. Curling up on the couch, Rogue drifted into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

She spent the entire next day completing her work. Journal entries were finished and sketchbooks were filled - her hands turned red and black from the charcoals that she feverishly scribbled across page after page. Her artistic frenzy was spent by the time the sun was sinking in the sky, at which point she wandered the halls of the warehouse searching for Pyro. She found him in the control room, watching cartoons.  
"Ah have somethin' for you."

Pyro nearly tipped the chair over at the sound of her voice. "Ya shouldn't sneak up on people like that," he complained, righting himself.

"Here." She threw a pile of notebooks and sketchbooks at his feet. One flipped open to reveal sinister red eyes glowing from a black background.

He picked that one up and looked up at her. "What's this?"

Snatching it from his hands, she flung it back to the floor. "Kindling."

"Really...?" he asked, his eyes glazing over in feverish delight.

"Burn it all."

No sooner had the words escaped her lips than flames burst forth and consumed the inner demons Rogue had imprisoned on the pages. In his haste, Pyro incinerated her gracious offering far too quickly, and was disappointed when there was nothing left.

"Ah'm gonna get goin'," Rogue said after he had calmed down a bit.

"Already? But we're just gettin' ta know each otha," he replied, half-joking.

"Ah'm ready to go back."

John understood, she didn't belong here with him. He nodded.

"Ah just wanted to, you know, thank you. For everythin'."

"It was nothin'."

His attention returned to the TV, and Rogue walked away. She had just reached the door when he spoke again. "Listen...ya eva need a place ta stay...the door's always open." She lingered in the doorway, wondering if he expected a response. But he didn't say anything else, so she continued on her previous heading.

Driving back to the Institute, she found that she was looking forward to returning to her normal routine...and having some much-needed talks with some of her fellow X-Men, especially Logan and Remy. There was so much she had to get out of her system before she was ready to sit down and face them, and this short sabbatical, far from prying eyes, had allowed her to work through some of her darker emotions in privacy.

She pulled up to the gate with hope in her heart, and punched in the security code, looking forward to new beginnings...

_Access denied_.

"What?" she asked aloud, typing in the code again.

_Access denied_.

They had locked her out. Her friends, her family...she was gone for one night, and they changed the locks to the palace. Did they know where she had been spending her time...? How...? Gambit. He knew. He told them. And they saw it as a betrayal. Hadn't she been through enough by their side to prove that she was loyal?

This was the last straw...her rage grew by the second....how _dare_ they? Unwilling to play the part of the fool yet again, she left the SUV, with the keys still in the ignition, at the gate and proceeded on foot. Her flip-flops echoed in the darkness as she walked the near-deserted streets, wondering why everyone she trusted turned their back on her. Whatever the reason, she refused to be the victim this time. The X-Men didn't want her? No problem. She'd go off on her own and do just fine without them. After all, she had somewhere to go...

By the time she reached the warehouse, it was late. She was much calmer now, still angry, but not to the point of wanting to rip someone's head off. Without permission, she strode into the building, dropped her bag in the living room, slipped off her flip flops, and headed for the control room.

Pyro was dozing in his cushiony chair, his feet up on the control panel.

"Hey."

In an instant he was on his feet, arms extended, ready to envelop her in flames. But realization crossed his face, and he lowered his arms. "Oh...it's just you."

"Is that invitation still open?"

He raised an eyebrow, but managed to otherwise suppress his surprise. "Absolutely."

"Ah don't know how long ah'll be here," she said casually as she headed for the door, "ah hope you don't mind..."

"With all this space, I won't even know you're here," he replied, watching her leave. He settled back into his chair and put his hands behind his head. Now things were _definitely_ interesting...

* * *

(1) - _The Edge of Night_, from _The Lord of the Rings - Return of the King_


	9. My Immortal

**Part 9 - My Immortal**__

_I'm so tired of being here,  
Suppressed by all my childish fears.  
And if you have to leave,  
I wish that you would just leave,  
'Cause your presence still lingers here  
And it won't leave me alone..._ (1)

"Pull over here."

John did as he was told, stopping the motorcycle next to the wall that surrounded the Institute's grounds. "Embarrassed t' be seen with me?" he laughed as she dismounted behind him.

"If ah play mah cards right, ah won't be seen at all," she replied, looking up at the top of the barrier, trying to decide the best way to get over it.

"Wait a second...you're not breakin' in, are ya?"

Amused by his apparent concern, Rogue looked over her shoulder at her companion. "Since when d'you have a problem with breakin' the law?"

"Hey, ya wanna break in, that's your choice...but ain't there millions of security cameras an' alarms? How ya plan on gettin' in an' out without bein' seen?

"Ah live here, remember? Ah know where all the cameras an' stuff are. Besides...you don't spend as much time with a master thief as ah have an' not pick up a few things. Now come here an' give me a boost."

Pyro got off his bike and stood with his back against the wall, interlacing his fingers in front of him. "What are ya gonna do if ya get caught?"

"Ah won't." She backed up to the street. "You'll wait for me?" He nodded in confirmation, and she came at him at top speed. Thanks to several years of training, her aim was perfect - her right foot slipped into Pyro's hands with ease, and right on cue he helped catapult her over the wall. She landed on her feet on the other side, and immediately began to run towards the mansion.

John leaned against the stone obstruction and sighed. Two weeks had passed since her initial request to hang out in the warehouse, though she had only been staying there for about a week. She asked him to bring her over here so she could pick up a few things, mostly clothes, because she was tired of borrowing his. Their relationship hadn't really gone anywhere - Rogue stayed in the living room, while John kept to the other side of the building...still, they were friendly enough the few times they'd encountered each other in the hall or kitchen. He didn't know why she come back after she'd insisted it was time for her to return to the X-Men, and didn't bother to ask. He knew that she wasn't the sharing type. Besides, the reason didn't matter...the fact was, she had nowhere else to go. As he waited, he decided that he was going to take her out tomorrow to do something fun; even though her mood had improved significantly over the past few days, the girl really needed to lighten up.

Twenty minutes later, Rogue still hadn't returned, and Pyro was beginning to worry. He wondered if she changed her mind about the whole thing and decided to stay...or maybe she got caught and was being held somewhere inside against her will. He really didn't need much of an excuse to march in there, fires blazing, and free the captive mutant girl, but he'd rather not do that unless he was sure she'd been nabbed. If he acted rashly and she wasn't caught, but rather taking her sweet old time, he'd have made a huge spectacle of himself, when Rogue obviously wanted to keep things quiet. This was her show. He wouldn't interfere unless it became necessary. If she wasn't back in another twenty minutes, he'd reconsider his options.

It wasn't long before he heard her voice. Looking down the road to his left, he saw a figure slowly walking towards him. "What took ya so long? I was startin' t'think ya weren't comin' back."

Rogue didn't reply until she was close enough that she didn't have to shout to be heard. "There were a couple a' unexpected obstacles."

"I thought ya had some kinda plan."

"Ah did," she said, annoyed. "But they've added new security measures since...since ah was attacked. Ah had to be careful. An' then ah had to find a tree whose branches were close enough to the wall so ah could jump on it...an' the closest one ah could find was a mile up the road."

"So why didn't ya tell me to pull ova there?"

" 'Cause ah didn't memorize the flora and fauna on the Institute'd grounds." She stopped next to his bike, dropped the bag she was carrying, and put her hands on her hips. "What're you complainin' about, you got somewhere else you gotta be?"

John smiled. If nothing else, he appreciated her high-spiritedness. "Ya got what ya need?" She nodded, and he walked over to his bike and mounted it. "Then let's get outta here."

Rogue grapped her bag, got on the bike behind him, and wrapped her arms around his waist. Pyro revved the engine a couple times, and then they were off.

Inside the Institute, Gambit leaned back in his chair, deep in thought. Since Rogue's ostensible desertion, he'd been staying up all night, every night, watching, waiting, eyes glued to the many security monitors, searching for even a hint of motion. Night after night was wasted - leaves blew across the frozen ground, stray cats wandered the property in search of food, and once he caught an anonymous X-Man sneaking in after curfew - but no Rogue. She would come back, of this much he was sure...but under what circumstances he couldn't say.

And now, tonight, she did.

She was familiar with the landscape and the security system, but was unaware of the additional measures that had been added since her attack. Gambit took it upon himself to disable the necessary alarms in order to allow her to come and go undetected...almost undetected. He followed her movements from screen to screen, sometimes only catching a glimpse of her hand or a lock of hair, but despite her caution, most of the new cameras caught her every breath.

There was a time in his life when he would have snickered, or at the very least rolled his eyes, at a character who longingly touched a photograph of a long lost loved one in a movie...but he finally understood the truth of those moments as his fingers caressed the smooth, cool, glass beneath which Rogue's image stood. There was nothing he wouldn't do touch the real girl, but he had promised himself that he'd leave her be while she worked things out on her own. Still, if he could come up with a way to get through to her, he would break that vow in a heartbeat.

She came and went without making a sound, leaving a note, or seeming to care about what she was doing. She left with a large duffle bag, which implied an extended absence, if not an outright resignation from the team. While there was always a possibility that she'd never return, her visit had given Gambit hope, especially after he checked her room. She'd only taken some clothes and personal items..._some_, not _all_. She'd left things behind that he knew she wouldn't want to be without for a lengthy period of time. This was just a phase...something she had to get out of her system. She wasn't gone...she hadn't left them...she hadn't left him...not yet.

* * *

_You used to captivate me  
By your resonating light.  
Now I'm bound by the life you left behind.  
Your face, it haunts my once pleasant dreams.  
Your voice, it chased away all the sanity in me._ (2)

"That was awesome," Rogue repeated for the millionth time, her cheeks still slightly flushed with excitement. "Exhilarating..."

Across the booth, John sat back and smoothly put his arms on the back of the padded bench. He knew she'd like bunji jumping. "I told ya so."

"Ah didn't think ah'd be able to do it...ah mean, at first ah didn't want to, but when ah got up there an' ah was lookin' down at the world, ah wanted to, but ah didn't think ah could."

There had been no doubt in his mind, that this girl, whose bravery he'd witnessed on more than one occasion, would have the balls to jump even if her life wasn't in danger...just for the heck of it. And she was the type who'd think it was fun. "That's just how I felt the first time I did it."

Rogue gave him a skeptical look, and he was only able to contain his laughter for a few seconds. "Ok, ok...so maybe I ran right off the platform an' plunged ta my doom without hesitatin'. But I was still scared." Her expression didn't change with this supposed confession, so he continued. "Maybe not scared...nervous." Her disbelief remained, and he decided to try one more time to stretch the truth, and if that didn't work, then he'd fess up. "Would you believe I was slightly uneasy?" He paused, and finally gave up. "Ok, you win. I had no fear."

She hid her grin behind her mug as she took a sip of coffee. "Afraid ah won't stay with a certifiable lunatic who isn't afraid t' die?"

"No," he replied, crossing his arms in front of him.

John's relaxed demeanor faded, and Rogue was sorry she had teased him. There was still so little they knew about each other, and while they had fallen into a relatively comfortable routine, whenever they strayed from that routine, one of them inevitably overstepped boundaries that he or she was unaware of.

She finished her coffee before speaking again. "So...what've you got planned for us tomorrow?"

Pyro knew he was overreacting...the shiela was just being friendly. But she saw too much. Until now, people had their suspicions about him, but he made sure that the extent of his supposed insanity could never be determined. He wasn't sure he liked the fact that she was getting to know him so well, that she could look beyond his erratic behavior and see who he really was. "Maybe we'll practice playin' with fire."

"Sounds like a plan."

Just then, Kitty Pryde walked into the Dungeon and scanned the tables for Lance, who was supposed to meet her here after she got out of school. She wasn't surprised to discover that he hadn't arrived yet - Lance was notoriously tardy whenever they made plans to meet somewhere - and was about to sit down in an empty booth when realization struck. Reviewing the occupants of the diner, she came back to Rogue and Pyro. What the hell was she doing with that freak? Kitty knew that her teammate been out of sorts since being ripped to pieces, and couldn't blame her for her recent bizarre behavior, but Pyro? Out of all the people in the world, she was hanging out with _that_ guy? Intent on having a serious talk with her friend, she started to head over to the pair when a hand shot out from a booth and pulled her down.

She let out a little yelp as she was forced to sit beside Gambit. "Leave it be, petite."

"Are you serious? Like, this is totally not cool," she protested, phasing her arm through his hand and rubbing her wrist. "Somebody's gotta do somethin' about this."

"No...the rogue needs to find herself on her own."

"Find herself? Gambit, she's sleepin' with the enemy." Cringing at her own words, she silently cursed herself for using that particular expression. "I mean...you know what I mean. That guy's off his rocker. What she needs is stability...her friends...her family."

Gambit shook his head. "Only she knows what she needs. It's not for us to say what's good for her."

"Are you serious? She almost died..."

"Yeah, she almost died, an' almost took one of her teammates down with her. Do you know what that's like? To be on the brink of death an' stare into the abyss? T'almost kill someone?" Kitty looked down at her hands uncomfortably, while Gambit continued. "That's what I thought...I grew up 'round lawlessness an' violence, an' when I got older, death. Never been seriously injured myself, but I've seen what happens to those who have...some of 'em change afterwards - some for the better, some for the worse."

"An' you think Rogue's changin' for the worse?"

"Can't say she's changin' at all...but change or not, she's still dealin' with what happened. She sees everythin' differently now. She has to decide if she should rearrange her priorities. Maybe she's keepin' away from the people who know an' love her so she concentrate on that single task."

Kitty glanced over at Rogue and Pyro laughing on the other side of the room. "She doesn't seem to be concentrating on it at the moment."

What was left of Gambit's patience - for Rogue or anyone else - vanished at that moment. "What d'ya want from me? I don' have all the answers...maybe she's tryin' to forget all about what happened to her, maybe she's tryin' to forget all about us. I don' know her anymore..."

He had kept his voice low, so his outburst went unnoticed by the other patrons, but Kitty was touched by the flash of raw emotion that had burst from his seemingly cool exterior. She put her arm around his shoulder and pulled him towards her. He reluctantly accepted her consolation, and after a moment's pause, rested his head against hers.

They sat like that for several minutes until he spoke again. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I say stuff without thinkin' sometimes...and I shouldn't expect you to have all the answers. But you always seem so calm, so together...I never thought anything would upset you. I guess I was wrong."

"I wish she would talk to me," he admitted. "I don' want to approach her, 'cause I'm afraid it'll set her off. But I wish I knew what she's doin'...what she's thinkin' about."

"Well isn't this cozy?"

Both recognized the voice at their backs, and instinctively sat up and separated. Kitty got up to properly greet her boyfriend, and Gambit leaned back against the wall next to the booth and stretched his legs out over the rest of the bench.

"You're late," Kitty complained, but Lance ignored her. He wasn't a big fan of Gambit as it was, and now that he came across him in an intimate pose with _his_ girlfriend, he was beginning to hate him.

"Just what do you think you're doin' with your paws on my girl?"

"Give me a break..." Kitty interjected, rolling her eyes.

"You stay outta this," he said before returning his attention to Gambit. "Well? You got anythin' to say to me?"

"Nothin' comes to mind."

Lance made a fist, ready to unleash a good-sized earthquake, but Kitty grabbed his arm. "Would you relax? We were talking about Rogue, ok?"

A smirk slithered across Lance's face, as Gambit wondered if that girl could ever keep her mouth shut about anything. "Awwww...poor widdle tough guy havin' problems wiff his girlfriend?"

"Keep it up an' you'll be drinkin' your meals through a straw from now on," Gambit warned quietly.

"I'm shakin' in my boots."

"If you two don't stop acting like a couple of babies, I'm leaving."

Lance went to say something else, but one glance at Kitty told him that she was serious, so he kept his mouth shut. He wasn't really mad at either of them; in fact, aside from a slight twinge of jealousy, he could've cared less about coming across them like that. They were teammates, of course they'd be friendly...and if it wasn't enough that he trusted Kitty, he was fully aware of the Cajun's interest in a certain untouchable X-Man. He wasn't in the best of moods, though, and had come to the Dungeon looking for a fight. He'd have to apologize to Kitty for his behavior...later. "So what's wrong with Rogue?"

Kitty pointed to where Rogue and John were sitting. "She's, like, suffering from a serious lapse in judgement...amongst other things."

They watched the pair burst into laughter, and Lance leaned towards his girlfriend and whispered in her ear. "I don't think I've ever seen her laugh like that."

"Me neither...and we used to be roommates," she whispered back.

"What's goin' on...she leave Gambit?"

"No...I mean, I don't think so...I don't know what she's doing. I don't think she does either."

The couple turned back to the booth, but Gambit was gone.

* * *

_I've tried so hard to tell myself that you're gone.  
But though you're still with me,  
I've been alone all along..._ (3)

__"Ya sure ya wanna do this?"

"For the last time, yes. Now hold still."

Rogue brushed his face with her fingertips, then caught his arm when he stumbled. John put a hand to his head as he shook it off. "I'll handle the guards, you find the goods."

"Ah know, ah know...we've only been over it a hundred times."

They separated then, John confidently striding down the hall, wanting his victims to see him coming, waiting for the flicker of fear in their eyes before he'd unleash a sea of flames upon them...while Rogue took to the shadows, preferring to avoid a confrontation if possible. When she had safely made it to the storeroom, she used the flame-thrower attached to her left forearm to create a decent sized flame, and controlled it with her newly acquired powers. She had been practicing using small doses of Pyro's powers for the past two days, and had taken a hearty dose before they left the warehouse...he had recovered soon enough, though she knew from experience that she'd be able to control flames long after he regained consciousness. The brief contact when they had arrived at their destination was just a precaution.

She carefully walked through the shelves of merchandise, until the room opened up and the shelves disappeared, replaced by stacks of crates. The layout was similar to the Acolyte's former base, and Rogue relaxed a notch in the seemingly familiar environment. She raised her left arm above her head, as if she were holding a torch, she wandered around, looking for the desired item.

As she leaned over to scrutinize the writing on one of the boxes, something caught her attention. She cut off the fuel to her flame-thrower and lifted her face to the ceiling as she sniffed the air. Gambit. She made him long before he could approach her, and he knew it. Her back still to him, she continued her search by the narrow beams of light that fell into the storeroom via a row of windows high on opposing walls.

_"Let him come,"_ she thought to herself. _"I'm not afraid of him."_

__As his scent became stronger, she felt her heart quicken...though it was not from fear.

"Chere..."

She turned and grabbed at him with a fiery claw, but he had expected the reaction and used his bo-staff to leap over her onto a crate. Once again, she extinguished the flame, and slowly turned towards him. "Chere, I....oh no..."

To Rogue, he was little more than a silhouette surrounded by the soft glow streaming in from the street. He became an angel then, the thief with the eyes of a demon cleansed by the gentle caress of light.

But the same light that made a saint out of a sinner, exposed Rogue's infidelity. That she was helping Pyro steal was one thing...but to do it like this was another. She wasn't wearing her X-Men uniform, nor was she in street clothes. Rather, she had fashioned a new uniform of sorts, befitting her role as Pyro's partner in crime. She wore a black vinyl top similar to Boom Boom's new uniform, a pleated red and black short skirt, and her black and white Converse sneakers. She wore a black and red striped arm band that went from the back of her left hand up to her elbow, over which a flame-thrower was strapped. That flame-thrower was connected to a small tank on her back. Her right arm was entirely bare...and her hair in playful pigtails. If the situation had been different, Gambit would've thought she looked extraordinarily cute. Of course, what he didn't realize is that she had purposely put together this semi-uniform because she didn't want what she was about to do tarnish the X-Men's reputation, because it didn't feel right breaking the law in the uniform she wore when she was fighting for justice. Not because she had decided to leave the team.

"What? Don't like the new look?"

"What've you done...?"

"John didn't ask me t'come...ah volunteered. Ah won't be freeloadin' at his place - ah'll earn mah keep."

"By stealin'?"

"You're one to talk."

Gambit jumped down from the top of the crate, landing a few feet in front of her. "Stay back," she warned, holding her left arm towards him. "Ah don't wanna hurt you."

He held up his hands. "I jus' wanna talk."

"There's nothin' to talk about..."

"Come home, Rogue. Everyone misses you. _I_ miss you."

"Then maybe you shouldn't have locked me out."

He was genuinely confused by her response. "What?"

"You guys changed the security codes while ah was gone..." she began, remembering the incident with bitterness.

"That had nothin' t'do with you."

"Get off it, Cajun, you wanted me out. Ah got the message loud an' clear."

Gambit shook his head in disbelief. "Is that what this is all about? We decided to change the code more frequently, is all, for security's sake. We figured you'd just buzz us when you got back, an' we'd let you in."

She slowly lowered her arm as he spoke. If what he said was true - and she wasn't necessarily ready to concede it was - then all this was for naught. She thought he betrayed her...she'd been aware of his visit to the warehouse the day before she was locked out. When he had come to check up on her, she'd picked up his scent, though she hadn't given any indication of it. "You mean, you didn't tell...?"

"That you were with Pyro? Wouldn't do that. An' even if I did, do you really think you'd be kicked out without so much as a warning? Without us tryin' to win you back?"

"Ah don't know..."

"Come on, d'ya think we'd give up on you so easy?" He took a few steps towards her. "Do you think I'd give up on you so easily?"

"Ah don't know what to think anymore, Remy."

With so much skin exposed, Gambit had to refrain from the urge to hold her. Instead, he took her covered arm and led her to a small-ish crate where they could both sit down. "I know you have doubts...I know the past couple weeks have been hard...but you really haven't given us much of a chance."

Rogue nodded in agreement, and he continued. "You an' me, we both have a tendency of pushin' away people right when we need 'em most...an' I know from experience that doin' that only makes things worse. So why don't you give us a try?"

She was about to respond when Pyro appeared in front of them. "Ain't this sweet, my partna an' her man, makin' up..."

Rogue rose and walked up to him. "John, ah..."

"No explanation necessary," he assured her with a grin. "I understand how it is. You've got a home ta get back ta." Inside, his fury boiled over...he was finally part of a team again, and Gambit was ready to pull the rug out from under him...in the middle of a job, no less. As Rogue turned away, he slipped off a glove and touched the small of her back, staying conscious by sheer will. "Just help me wrap this up, an' you an' Gambit can go ridin' off inta the sunset."

Pyro's fury now her own, Rogue returned to Gambit with one thing on her mind...to make him pay for what he'd done. Remy didn't see it coming. In a flash, claws popped out of her right hand, and she sliced into his left arm. He looked down at his shredded sleeve, where a ruby stain was already beginning to spread, before catching Rogue's eye. "Chere?"

"Goodbye, Remy."

She turned from him, and he grabbed her semi-covered arm and pulled her back. "Don't do this."

"If you don't let go, ah'll slice you again...an' this time ah'll aim for a major organ," she breathed softly.

He released his grip, and watched as she and Pyro located the box in question and made off with it. His arm cried for medical attention, but he didn't much care. She'd played him for a sap. In all his years, he'd always been the heartbreaker...now that his heart had been broken, he didn't know what to do with himself...

* * *

_These wounds won't seem to heal.  
This pain is just too real.  
There's just too much that time cannot erase... _(4)

"Goin' somewhere?"

Logan was leaning on the door frame, arms crossed in font of his chest, watching Gambit pack.

"Jus' for a little while."

"Where to?"

"D'ya need to ask?"

He walked into the room as Gambit zipped up the bag and glanced around his room for anything he might have missed. "She'll be back."

"I know." Glancing down at the fresh bandages on his arm, he sighed. "But I can't stand to see her like this..." He trailed off, and in a barely audible voice, added, "It's too much to for me to bear."

"I'll let ya know when she gets back."

Collecting himself, he headed for the door. "You do that, mon ami...though I don' expect to be hearin' from you for some time..."

Across town, Rogue and Pyro had only just returned to the warehouse. After leaving the merchandise they'd lifted at the agreed upon drop-off point, and picking up their money, they'd celebrated their success at a local pizzeria. As she began to change, Rogue wondered if she'd been too hard on Gambit. For the life of her she didn't know what had possessed her to slash his arm like that.

Distracted by her thoughts, she didn't notice the piece of paper flutter to the ground when she removed her skirt. It wasn't until she was in her pajamas that she saw it on the floor. As she bent over to pick it up, she realized what it was, and froze. It couldn't be...it wasn't...but when she reached down and examined it, she discovered it was exactly what she thought it was - the Queen of Hearts card Gambit had given her in the bayou...the one she'd ripped up in a fit of rage, then carefully pieced back together and taped. He must've slipped it to her when he grabbed her arm.

Only then did the full implications of her recent acts hit her, and she sunk to the floor in despair. "What have I done?" she asked herself quietly.

TO BE CONTINUED...

* * *

(1), (2), (3), (4) - Excerpts from _My Immortal_, by Evanescence 


	10. Disease

**Part 10 - Disease**

Gambit had once told Rogue that the other women in his life hadn't meant much to him, and that was true...to a point. There was one relationship that had begun as something strictly physical, but grew into something more. Shortly before he left New Orleans to make it on his own, Remy foolishly dove head first into the seduction to end all seductions...a final fling in a familiar setting. He took it upon himself to approach the only daughter of his father's worst enemy and woo her.

Belladonna Bordeaux was two years younger than he, but already an expert assassin. She was also beautiful - with long blonde hair, blue eyes, and a figure many girls would be willing to starve themselves for. They were no strangers; they'd actually been friends as children, though they drifted apart as they got older. As a teen, Belle had many suitors, and Gambit had a long list of girls he wanted to "get to know better," so their paths didn't frequently cross...but as he made plans to leave his father, the Thieves Guild, and New Orleans, Gambit discovered that he didn't want to go out with a whisper. He wanted to leave on a high note, with a major explosion, with a prize...and thus his eye happened on Belle, who was walking past Jean Lafitte's Blacksmith Shop just as he was trying to figure out what to do.

He called to her from his table, and invited her in for a drink. She accepted, and though she was grossly underage, her physical appearance - her face, her clothes, the way she carried herself - often made her seem older than she was. Gambit bought her a voodoo daiquiri, and started to make small talk. In the course of the conversation, he learned that she just broken up with her latest boyfriend, and was looking for someone to fill his shoes. Her hint did not go unnoticed, though he waited a few weeks before asking her on a date.

Aside from the undeniable attraction they felt for one another, both yearned for a way to rebel against their parents, and were excited at the prospect of tasting forbidden fruit. What happened between them wasn't meant to be anything more than a fling; it was solely an outlet for their frustrations and passions. Remy knew it wasn't a seduction in the truest sense, but Belle was more than happy to play the role of the pure, innocent schoolgirl opposite his smooth-talking charmer, and the fact that she was a willing participant somehow made it even more stimulating. In the process of what was supposed to be a game, the two players began to care for each other.

While neither Gambit's nor Belle's fathers were initially pleased with the idea that their children were a couple, their union sparked an idea in both guild masters' minds. The possibility of an interguild marriage, and a joining of the two guilds, brought Jean-Luc LeBeau and Marius Bordeaux to the bargaining table. The feud between the Thieves and Rippers had been long and drawn out...both sides grew weary of the war. If they merged, the guilds would become much more powerful, their reaches would far exceed what they were now. And so, without the knowledge or consent of either child, a marriage between a thief and a ripper was arranged.

When Remy learned of the plan, he was furious. It was bad enough that Jean-Luc often used him for his powers in the past...but to thrust this responsibility on him, to use him to mend a wound he himself had played no part in creating, to dictate his future to him...it was too much. It was the final straw. He would no longer be his father's puppet. That night, when he met Belle, he told her everything. She was heartbroken...as daddy's little princess, she had never before experienced the sour taste of manipulation...or, at least, had never been aware of it.

Once she was sufficiently consoled, he announced that he was leaving...possibly forever. He didn't ask her to come with him, and she made no indication that she wanted to. So he packed a few things, said good-bye to Belle, and drove off in search of a life of his own.

And now, years later, he returned to the Big Easy hoping that his childhood home would soothe his nerves and help him forget what he'd left behind. He didn't announce his arrival to kith and kin...there was no point. They'd find out soon enough, and until then, he'd rather be alone with his heartache. After hiding his possessions in an old, abandoned building that once served as a hideout for the Thieves Guild, he wandered down Bourbon Street in search of a drink. The rowdy, drunken tourists, who had been a source of much amusement in the past disgusted him. Still, he stopped in several different bars along the street, waiting for the alcohol to kick in so he could laugh at the fools around him. But each drink only served to increase his revulsion towards them.

Gambit abandoned one plan for another, and headed for a dark, quiet place where no one would bother him. Alone with his misery, he sat at a corner table in Lafitte's tiny, two room bar and tried not to think. But the more he drank, the less able he was to ignore the thoughts of Rogue that were threatening to completely overwhelm him.

He sighed into his beer in defeat, ready to succumb to the torments of his memory, when a group of women walked by. He didn't notice of them at first, but one of them stopped in her tracks and stared at him.

"Remy...?"

He looked up at the woman his little blonde angel had become. She hadn't changed much since she was 16, save the hardness in her eyes. She was as beautiful, as deadly, as tempting as she ever was. "Hello, Belle..."

* * *

"Ah'm gonna get goin'." 

She had spoken these words before, and it had come to nothing. "See ya."

"Ah mean it."

Pyro turned around to face Rogue. "Tired of hangin'around with me?"

"It's time to take responsibility for mah actions...ah've been hidin' from them for too long. Ah gotta step up an' accept whatever consequences come with 'em."

He turned back to the large screen on the control panel. "Suit yourself."

Rogue was stunned. She didn't expect him to get all emotional on her, but she also didn't think he'd be so blasé about the whole thing. "Bye..."

She walked out of the room then, and was almost out the front door before he caught up to her. "Hey, wait a minute."

She turned around and waited for him to speak. "Y'know...it's been kinda nice havin' ya around...an' I thought I should maybe tell you somethin' before ya go..."

"A confession from the great John Allerdyce?" she asked in mock surprise.

"Yeah," he said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. "With ya talkin' about takin' responsibility for your actions, I thought maybe I'd do that too."

"Ah already know what you're gonna say."

"No ya don't."

"You touched me in that warehouse, right before ah sliced Remy's arm."

"Crikey you're good," he sputtered, backing away a few steps. "Ya gonna do anythin' about it?"

"Ah've been thinkin' about it the past few days, an' the way ah see it, you didn't make me do anythin' ah wasn't already thinkin' about doin'. You didn't make this mess, ah did."

"I'm glad ya see it that way..."

"But," she continued, "you also didn't do much to help clean it up either."

"Yeah."

"Y'know, you might think about joinin' The Brotherhood now that you're without a team...they need all the help they can get."

"What about the X-Men, mate?"

Rogue couldn't resist the smile she felt spreading across the face. "You wanna join the X-Men?"

He grinned at her reaction. "Nah...they're a bit too high maitenance for me."

"An' not fun enough."

They stood there for a minute before Pyro spoke again. "Well...off with ya. I'm sure he's waitin'."

She nodded, then made her way to the door. "Thanks for lettin' me crash here..."

"That sheila's all right," he said to himself as he watched her walk away into the afternoon sun. "She doesn't have enough of a spark ta her for my tastes, but she's all right."

* * *

"Rise an' shine." 

Gambit groaned and rolled over, pulling the blankets over his head. Last night had been a long one, and he wasn't looking forward to another one like it...though he knew tonight would be no different.

"C'mon, Gambit, get your lazy butt up."

For a moment his ears deceived him, and he practically jumped out of bed, but he sank back down when he saw a shapely blonde standing where and auburn haired beauty should have been. She glanced over her shoulder and smiled at him before heading to the bathroom. While she was gone, he took in his surroundings. Judging by the size of her bedroom, it was a modest apartment, but if it was in the Quarter, it probably cost her father a pretty penny.

When he saw his pants on the floor, he got up and put them on before sitting back down and replaying the previous evening's events. He had been pretty far gone when Belle had come across him, but that hadn't prevented him from having several more drinks, mostly shots, before she convinced him to go back to her place. He should've known what she had in mind, but a combination of the alcohol and mourning blinded him to her intentions. Lucky for her, he had long ago reached a point where he convinced himself that he didn't care, so when she threw herself at him as soon as they reached her apartment, he had no qualms about taking her. She had once told him that he was the best lover she ever had, and now that he was conscious and sober, he wondered if that was still true.

_"Who the hell cares?"_ he thought to himself angrily. The night had come to nothing. Deep down, he had secretly prayed the alcohol would induce visions of the one he loved, so he could pretend he was making love to her, and not the ripper before him...but either his conscience wouldn't allow him to do something that heinous to Belle, or he hadn't consumed enough hard liquor. Whatever the case, he had come to the apartment with nothing...and whether Belle's actions were inspired by sincere feelings, which he doubted, or the same lust that had begun their relationship years ago, he brought nothing to the bed they shared. And now he realized that when you began with nothing, you made nothing...and you ended up feeling worse than before.

Right now, Gambit felt sick to his stomach. He had gotten himself in deep. He was back for one night, and he somehow managed to not only betray his girlfriend, but thrust himself into the middle of the guilds he had spent so much time trying to separate from. This was one girl he couldn't just walk away from, no matter what his feelings may be. If he angered Belle, he angered her father, and whatever state the guilds were currently in, it would only get worse.

"Hey, chere, you look like your cat jus' died," Belle said cheerfully as she pranced into the room in a towel.

"Not feelin' too well this mornin'." At least he wasn't lying to her.

She walked up to him and kissed him on the forehead. "Mornin'? It's almost t'ree o'cock in de afternoon. Not used t'makin' de rounds on Bourbon Street anymore?"

"Somet'in' like that."

"Well, you jus' take a couple aspirin an' lay back down for a little while."

He didn't accept the pills, but he did lie down.

"D'ya mind if I put on some music real soft?" she asked quietly. "Or is your head...?"

"My head's fine," he interrupted, rolling over so he wouldn't have to face her. "Music won't bother me."

She switched on the radio, but kept the volume low despite his protests. He listened to her get dressed before walking back and forth between her room and the bathroom, probably doing her makeup and hair. When she was done, she stood over him for a minute, trying to determine if he was awake or not...but since he didn't stir, she scribbled a note on a piece of paper and left him to sleep it off.

But he was far from sleep...a fly who willingly flew into the spider's web, Gambit was trying to figure out a way to escape. He'd have to go to his father, as much as he loathed the idea. They may have been on better terms, but he knew that Jean-Luc never did anything for anyone without expecting something in return, and he didn't particularly want to be indebted to him. Still, he'd rather owe his father than have to mislead Belle, which was not only dishonest and ungentlemanly, but dangerous.

Sometime that night he'd have to track down Jean-Luc, which shouldn't prove difficult...Remy was sure members of the guild had already spotted him in town and informed their leader of his presence there. It had to be tonight, though. The longer this charade with Belle lasted, the worse it would be for everyone connected to it.

But did Belle really, truly believe it was love at first sight last night? She was playing the part of a woman whose long lost boyfriend finally returned home, welcoming him with open arms and an open heart...but Gambit knew her well enough to know that she was no fool. She knew that he helped his father escape from the Ripper's grasp last year, and that he did so with the help of a mutant girl...and there was no doubt in his mind that Julien told her about his failed assassination attempt, and the mutant girl who got mixed up in it. So it was possible that Belle was using her superior acting skills to suck him in just so she could get back at him...but it was also possible that she never stopped caring about him, and was genuinely glad to have him back. Could she be deluding herself that after all this time, he came back to the Quarter for her?

He had too many questions...to many doubts...he needed someone to talk things over with, an objective third party who could help him sort out his own thoughts and feelings. And that someone was not Jean-Luc. He knew who he needed to confide in, it was just a question of finding him...but like his father, this man shouldn't be difficult to locate.

Now that he had the framework of a plan, he relaxed and tried to let the music lull him to sleep. But every word of every song reminded him of _her_...and as he drifted off into an uneasy slumber, he caught a fragment of one final tune that spoke of the recent madness she had brought into his life...

...Feels like you're making a mess  
You're hell on wheels in a black dress  
You drove me to the fire  
And left me there to burn

Every little thing you do is tragic  
All my life, oh was magic  
Beautiful girl  
I can't breathe

I got a disease  
Deep inside me  
Makes me feel uneasy baby  
I can't live without you  
Tell me what I am supposed to do about it  
Keep your distance from it  
Don't pay no attention to me

I got a disease  
I think that I'm sick  
But leave me be while my world is coming down on me  
You taste like honey, honey  
Tell me can I be your honey  
Be, be strong  
Keep telling myself it that won't take long till  
I'm free of my disease... (1)

* * *

"I'm lockin' up." 

Rogue looked up at Jimmy with a start, almost spilling what was left of her coffee in the process. "What?"

"It's midnight, I'm closin'."

"Oh," she replied, looking around at the empty room. "Ah'm sorry...ah'm keepin' you?"

"Not from anything that can't wait," he said, sliding into the empty seat across from her. "Wanna talk about it?"

"Not especially." She had been wasting time...putting off going back to the Institute. She missed her home and her friends terribly, but she was afraid they wouldn't welcome her back after all she'd done. Especially the two people she cared about the most. And she didn't know what she'd do if they rejected her...go to the Brotherhood's Boarding House, she supposed. Wanda could probably convince the others to let her hang around for a few days. But she really didn't want it to come to that.

"Well, I gotta do a few things around here before I leave...how about I give you a ride home when I'm done?"

"That'd be nice."

Jimmy dropped her off at the front gate at exactly 12:37 a.m. "Thanks for the lift."

"Anything for my best customer," he replied with a grin.

Rogue managed to give him a fairly convincing smile before he drove off and left her to ponder her next move. Aside from wanting to delay the inevitable, she had returned in the dead of night so as to avoid a crowd of onlookers...and now that she was here, she was unsure of how to proceed. Breaking in would prove difficult, especially since she was alone, and burdened with a duffel bag. But what else was there for her to do? She could ring the bell, but that would create a spectacle, and that was the last thing she wanted right now. Maybe it would've been better for her to do this during the day, while most of the X-Men were going to or coming from school, so she could slip in unnoticed.

She stood before the gate cold, lost, hurt...unable to think of a feasible solution...until one presented itself - without warning, the gate opened. Hesitantly, Rogue picked up her bag and started to walk up the driveway towards the mansion as the gate magically shut behind her. When she reached the front door, she took a deep breath and cautiously opened it. In the shadows of the entranceway, a figure stood silently waiting for her.

With the knowledge that there was no turning back, she entered the darkness, moving towards the faceless form, ready to face whatever retribution it had in store for her. She hoped it was Gambit. She feared it was Gambit. But her hopes and fears were vanquished by the reality of the man standing in front of her. She froze when she recognized him.

"Hey kid."

Her voice was barely a whisper when she finally found it. "Hello, Logan."

"You comin' back?"

She paused...what would he do if she said yes? His strange way of greeting her certainly didn't ring with joy at her return. "Ah don't know if ah can," she answered carefully.

"What's stoppin' you?"

"After all ah've done...am ah still...welcome here?"

It was his turn to pause, and Rogue's heart broke with the realization that she was no longer welcome, that her friends, her family, could never forgive or forget the monster she had briefly become. She turned to go, but his voice stopped her. "That's a question ya gotta answer yourself."

Dropping the bag, she walked towards her mentor, who opened his arms at her approach. As she fell into the embrace, wrapping her arms around him, she suddenly understood the lack of light...it was protection, a mask to hide the strong emotions both were experiencing. And though he knew he couldn't possibly express his feelings with words, Logan managed to make a simple comment that somehow said it all. "It's good to have you home, Rogue."

* * *

Once they recovered from their deeply moving reconciliation, Rogue and Logan had a long awaited talk about recent events - Rogue admitted to being frightened of his devotion to her, as exhibited by his willingness to sacrifice his life for her, and Logan, albeit reluctantly, acknowledged that she was special to him. Unnecessary apologies were exchanged and accepted in the course of the conversation, and their already strong bond was further cemented through words neither thought they'd ever have the nerve to say...sentiments brought upon by death's near fatal kiss. The sun was rising by the time they got around to the other man in Rogue's life. 

"Where's Gambit?"

Gambit had spent another uneventful night on Bourbon Street, this time with Belle on his arm. Because she'd insisted on going out with him, he'd decided to put off seeking counsel for a day, as provoking her was not the best move. And so they made the rounds, Belle showing off her ruggedly handsome beau, Gambit hoping to induce a deep enough alcoholic haze to free him of Rogue, if only for a while. But drink after drink had little effect on his memory...he stumbled, he slurred his words, and he found himself immensely turned on by his former girlfriend, but _her_ face was still there in the distance, close enough to torment, too far away to touch.

So he took out his frustrations on Bell, covering her with the burning kisses of a man who feels he has nothing left to lose. Taking the not so subtle hint, she paid the tab and lead him out of the noisy bar into the street. As they walked, his hand wandered from her shoulder, down her back, until it rested on her butt.

"Remy," she giggled, "what's gotten into you?"

_"If you only knew,"_ he thought to himself, before adding, _"Wish _I _knew." _He glanced down Toulouse Street as they crossed it, and stopped.

"What?"

He nodded towards the hatchet-shaped sign hanging a few feet down the block. "The Dungeon...I've never been. You?"

"No." Belle shifted next to him, stiffening a little.

"Maybe we check it out tomorrow?"

When she didn't answer him, he stepped in front of her and tilted her face up to his. He kissed her again, long and deep, his cravings for another woman fueling his enthusiasm.

Belle broke away from him playfully. "Keep dat up an' you'll have me convinced."

_"So be it,"_ he thought dejectedly. "Let's go back to your place...I like to do my convincin' in private..."

* * *

(1) - Excerpt from _Disease,_ by Matchbox 20 


	11. It's Been A While

**Chapter 11 - It's Been A While**

"I'll be right back."

Belle leaned over and sealed her promise with a kiss before crossing the dance floor, her friends in tow, heading downstairs. Gambit sat back in his seat and sighed heavily. His eyes surveyed the dance floor, crammed with everything from already drunk preppie tourists to those devoted to what the politically correct referred to as "an alternate vampire lifestyle." The serious Goth girls were pale in crushed velvet gowns that laced up their fronts, hair dyed black and blue and purple...they writhed on the floor as if possessed by demons.

He didn't know what inspired him with the colossally stupid idea to come to the Dungeon...or so he tried to convince himself. But he knew exactly why he came - he was looking for Rogue. Even though he knew he wouldn't find her here, there was still some small chance that he might. It was the rationale of a man who'd lost all sense of reason. These girls were nothing like Rogue. They were just so...extreme. Although one or two seemed comfortable in their skins, he felt like the others were trying to be something they weren't...forcing themselves into a stereotype that didn't quite fit. Rogue wasn't like that. She knew who she was. Or, at least, she used to.

And then there was Belle and her small group of loyal girl friends. They looked more like biker chicks - some leaning towards hookers - in their attempts to dress appropriately for tonight's outing. If he wasn't so depressed, he would have laughed his ass off. He was surprised to discover that the hard core Goth-types, who he had always thought were very judgmental of people who weren't just like them, accepted them without as much as a second look.

The girls had gone to the bathroom to gossip, he was sure, so they wouldn't be back for a few minutes yet. But the heavy metal and hard rock blaring over the speakers had gotten to be too much for him, so he too descended the stairs in search of a quieter atmosphere. The music could still be heard downstairs, although it wasn't nearly as loud, drowned out by the jukebox that was blasting random songs over the DJ's selections. Even so, it was less chaotic down here. Gambit settled onto an empty barstool and waited patiently for the bartender to finish with another customer on the other side of the room before making her way over to him.

"What can I get ya?" she asked cheerfully, her mood in direct contrast to her black apparel and skull jewelry. She carelessly scratched the shock of magenta spiky hair on her head as she waited for his response.

"A shot of somethin'...not sure what I'm in the mood for..."

Her eyes, outlined in heavy black eyeliner and accentuated further by black mascara, bore into his with a mixture of curiosity and compassion. "Rough night?"

He nodded. "Seems like I've been havin' a string of dose..."

She smiled warmly...he wasn't a rarity in this profession. People either drank because they wanted to make a good time better, or a bad time worse. "How 'bout I surprise you with somethin' I've been workin' on...it's pretty strong. Interested?"

"De stronger de better."

"I'll be right back."

He'd been hearing those words a lot lately...he turned away from the bar and towards the hall that lead to the bathrooms so he could catch Belle and her girls before they went back upstairs. After a couple minutes, the bartender returned with his drink. "Here you are, sweetie."

"Thanks," he mumbled, turning back to the bar. As he reached up to grab the glass, a hand fell upon his arm. Gentle, but firm, it prevented him from lifting the drink to his lips. "You've had enough," the soft voice said behind him.

* * *

_ It's been a while_  
_Since I could hold my head up high,  
And it's been a while  
Since I first saw you.  
It's been a while  
Since I can stand on my own two feet again,  
It's been a while  
Since I could call you..._(1)

Rogue sat on the floor of the X-Jet, knees under her chin, arms wrapped around her legs, mind miles away. After spending some time making amends and reestablishing bonds with her teammates, she left them behind once again to chase after the man she refused to let go. He had left because of her...she was fully aware of that. But from what Logan told her, he left to escape who he thought she was becoming, not who she was before...who she still was. So she decided to hunt Gambit down and bring him back home.

Logan was quick to offer his assistance, and was disappointed to discover that she only seemed to need a way to get down to Louisiana, determined to handle everything else on her own. Still, he obliged, and when she announced that she was ready to go, they boarded the jet, and were off.

"Just a few more minutes," he called back into the cabin, his words shattering her concentration.

"Ok...thanks."

Eight minutes later the jet set down in an empty field just outside New Orleans. After getting up and grabbing her bag, Rogue slid behind Logan, who was already sitting on his bike, ready to go. Seconds later the motorcycle sprang to life, and the two were headed for the outskirts of the French Quarter.

When they reached the corner of Espalade and North Rampart Streets, Rogue nearly jumped off the bike. Logan meant to leave right away, but couldn't help himself. "You sure you gonna be all right by yourself?"

"Yeah...ah spoke to Jean-Luc earlier...his people are supposed to meet me here at 11pm."

He glanced at his watch - she had about 10 minutes wait ahead of her - then looked at her. "You trust this guy?"

"Not particularly...but then again, he knows that Remy cares for me...and ah did help save his life that one time. Ah think he respects me enough not to try anythin'."

Logan didn't like this...he didn't like it at all. But Rogue was an adult now, she wasn't the same lost, confused young woman he met three years ago. He had to keep reminding himself of that fact. _"This is how fathers must feel," _he thought to himself as he reluctantly prepared to leave her on the dark streets of the Crescent City. "You got your communicator?"

"Yeah."

"An' you'll use it if you have to?"

"Quit worryin', ah'll be fine."

"Just in case I think I'll stick around a few hours," he said. When Rogue started to object, he added, "In the jet, I mean."

She knew if the situation had been reversed, she would've done the same thing, so she let it be. "Ah'll see you in a few days, Logan."

"Good luck."

"Thanks."

He decided that he had lingered long enough, so without another word he revved his bike a few times, then sped off into the night.

Rogue looked both ways down Espalade Street and sighed. She was just outside what was officially considered the French Quarter, and though crowds of drunken tourists were just a hop, skip, and jump away, this part of the city was deserted. The street lights were few and far between, allowing shadows to rule the better part of the sidewalks. As the seconds ticked by, she became more and more uncomfortable; she felt like she was being watched...

She spun around. Nothing but darkness. Nervously, she began to walk down North Rampart Street, hoping to shake her uneasiness, but it only seemed to make it worse. She tried to laugh it off - she was being silly, there was nobody there. Be that as it may, her instincts were telling her that something was wrong...and if Logan had taught her anything, it was that you should always listen to your gut. So she turned around and quickened her pace, intent on making her way deep into the heart of the Quarter, where she would be surrounded by people.

But she had made her decision too late. She barely reached the corner where Logan had dropped her off when a sweet smelling cloth was thrust over her face and mouth. Rogue tried to hold her breath and run away...but strong hands held her back, and after a couple minutes, her lungs screamed for air. She had no choice - she gave into the urge and took a deep breath...then the darkness that dwelled between the lights came from her, and swallowed her whole...

* * *

She was a fluffy white cloud floating in a sea of black...soft, warm, content. Comfortable. Without a care in the world. Barely conscious that there was a world to care about. But it was not long before distant voices intruded upon her mindless solitude, and she felt herself returning to a place that was not nearly as pleasant as her former situation. She morphed from a entity of little form or substance into a physical being with heavy limbs, jumbled thoughts, and a throbbing headache. 

Angry whispers were exchanged with kinder, more patient words in a muddled conversation she couldn't decipher. The conversation became background noise to her reawakening as her brain began to form coherent trains of thought. She was in New Orleans...Logan had dropped her off...she was being stalked...and kidnapped...

"I still don' understand why you had to..."

"An' I still don' understand what makes you t'ink you have de right t' question me."

"She's not one of us! Why'd you bring her here?"

Rogue's eyes were lead shades - she had a difficult time forcing them open. When she finally managed that feat, she cautiously took in her surroundings. She had been laid out on a couch in some sort of large room. Flickering light from standing candelabras placed along the walls did little to clarify the situation...there was a red carpet that stretched from the couch all the way down to the other end of the room, where it ascended several stairs onto a sort of stage. Upon the stage sat a throne with candelabras on either side. One figure sat on the throne, while the other paced before him, but she could not make out the details of either one...the dimness concealed whatever else there was to see.

"I had to put her somewhere," the seated form explained calmly to his agitated companion. "Somewhere secret...safe."

"But dis is sacred ground," the other protested with vehemence. "Dat girl ain't gonna be nothin' but trouble. Look what's she's done already..."

Rogue inadvertently moaned as she sat up. Dizziness and nausea struck her like a tidal wave...she grabbed the arm of the couch to prevent herself from sinking back into the solace of its embrace. "Look at what ah've done?" she complained. "At least ah don't go around druggin' and kidnappin' people."

The men stopped speaking and stared at her for a few seconds before responding. The one who had been sitting got up and made his way down the velvet carpet, the other following a few steps behind. "Sorry for dat," he apologized, reaching for the pitcher and glass that were sitting on a small table behind the couch. He poured something into the glass and held it out to her. "I t'ought dis way would be de easiest."

"Like father, like son," she mumbled, accepting the glass from Jean-Luc. "This safe?"

"It's water."

After considering her options, Rogue decided to drink it. Her mouth was dry and crying out for something cold and wet. Besides, Jean-Luc wouldn't dare do her any harm...angry with her or not, Remy wouldn't stand for it. She took a long drink. "Got any aspirin? Mah head's killin' me."

"Not sure dat's a good idea p'tite...mixin' drugs might not be de best t'ing t' do."

"Fine," she mumbled, finishing off the water. She shook her head at his offer to pour her more, then reached back to place the glass back on the table. "An' who's your charming friend over there?" she asked, motioning to the other man who had chosen to linger in the shadows. "Seems like he's not too happy about me being here."

"As far as I'm concerned..." the man began, but Jean-Luc held up his hand to cut him off.

"Dis is my son, Henri," he explained, motioning for him to come closer.

Henri LeBeau stood an inch or two above his father. They had the same eyes and the same colored hair, but the younger man's was shorter and a bit tousled, the way Gambit wore his when he wasn't in uniform. He sported a goatee that seemingly combined the facial hairstyles of his brother and his father...he wore a chocolate brown sweater, jeans, brown boots, and an expression of indignation.

Rogue was a little taken aback. "Oh...ah...ah didn't know Remy had a brother. Hi...ah'm Rogue." She paused and held out her hand. "Ah'm Remy's...well...ah guess...ah was...ah mean, ah am..."

"I know who you are," Henri said, contempt dripping from his voice, "Your de one who's gone an' messed wit' my little brother's heart..."

"Henri," Jean-Luc warned quietly as Rogue lowered her hand in disbelief. "I'll not have you disrespectin' my guest."

"No, that's ok," Rogue assured him, shakily standing up to face the younger of the two. "An' just what do you know about it?"

"I know enough...you must'a done somet'in' awful t' have him come back here in de state he did. I've never seen him like dis - so despondent, so desperate for a kind word dat he'd blindly stumble into de clutches of..."

"Enough." Jean-Luc stepped between them as if to protect Rogue from his son's words. "You've said enough."

"No...he's got something to say." She put her hand on Jean-Luc's arm and caught his eye. "Ah can take it." Remy's father stepped aside, shaking his head in disapproval. He didn't want her to find out this way. But if he knew anything about the rogue, it was that she was stubborn. And tough.

Henri stood there without speaking, his eyes boring into hers in a silent game of chicken. But Rogue was not one to blink in the face of an adversary. "Well?" she finally asked, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of intimidating her. "Spit it out."

Impressed with her resolve, his expression softened ever so slightly. "He's been shackin' up wit' one of his old girlfriends..."

She knew without asking which one. "Belladonna?"

"Yeah."

"Oh." She plopped down on the couch, defeated. "Oh."

Jean-Luc knelt beside her, not unlike the way Remy did when she found out about Irene and Mystique. "I didn' want t' tell you over de phone..."

"Oh." It was the only word she could get out. But really, what did she expect? Look at what she did to him - all she ever did was push him away, when all he ever tried to do was help her. He was so patient, so gentle, so caring...and she responded to him with anger and violence. By all accounts, she left him for another man, though her relationship with Pyro never ventured beyond friendship. And then, when he made one final play for her heart, she lashed out and slashed his arm...good God, she could've killed him. Why would he stay after that? How could he forgive her...?

"Look, I don' know what happened between you two, but I don' t'ink it's beyond mending," Jean-Luc said gently. "You seem to genuinely care for each ot'er...don' give up on dis wit'out a fight."

"This is mah fault," she confessed after a sizable pause. "Ah did this...and ah don't know if ah can fix it. Maybe things are better this way..."

"Come now, chil' t'ings are prob'ly not as bad as dey seem...why don' you tell me about it? Maybe we can come up wit' a solution together, no?"

Jean-Luc's kindness surprised her...she might be distraught, but she hadn't lost her head completely. She had reason to be wary, especially after some of the things Remy had told her about him, but she was also desperate to talk to someone who knew Gambit well. And though she realized that Jean-Luc never did anything without a reason, without expecting something in return, she decided that he was also the person in the best position to help her.

"It all started a couple months ago..." she began, "ah was alone in the mansion, and..." The story came pouring out - narrowly escaping the hands of death, the numbness that followed her recovery, running away, and the final betrayal of physically attacking the man she loved. Father and son listened without interruption, and the silence that followed was full of pregnant anticipation as Rogue waited for one of them to speak.

Both were moved by her tale...they knew what it was to be surrounded by violence and bloodshed, and their thoughts were similar to Remy's original conclusion, that the rogue needed to find her own way to deal with her near-death experience. They also knew, like Remy before them, that some people never recovered from such trauma, sporting permanent psychological scars for the rest of their lives. But there was more to this story than she realized, and a look exchanged between the men revealed that they had the same thought - this sounded like a Ripper hit.

"So...you and dis John guy never...?" Henri asked, his demeanor the opposite of what it had been minutes ago. Now that he understood the motivation behind the behavior his brother had described to him earlier that afternoon, he was willing to help her save Remy from himself.

"No way! Not even if ah could...ah mean, he was nice to have around an' all, but ah'm not crazy. Even if me an' Remy weren't...you know."

He nodded. "Y'know, Remy didn' tell me all dat stuff when I talked t' him, he jus' said dat..."

"You spoke to him?" she asked. "When? Is he ok? Ah mean, aside from his bein' back with Belladonna?"

"You didn' tell me dis," Jean-Luc said, obviously annoyed.

"He didn' want me t' tell nobody, especially not you." He paused, then added. "Not right away, anyway. But now...now maybe he could use you. And de girl."

"You didn't answer me," Rogue interjected before the two started arguing again.

"He's fine...other den sufferin' from some serious heartache, dat is." She started to protest, but he held up his hand, "Dat's not a judgment, chere, it's an answer. But he's in trouble...now that he's fallen back into bad habits, he's stuck. Dere's no easy way t' leave the princess of the Rippers wit'out causin' a whole mess a' trouble. Dat's why he came t' me for help."

"I hope you don' plan on causin' problems de night before de Danse de les Voleurs," Jean-Luc warned. "You know I don' need dat..."

"Den why you'd go an' invite her down here now?" Henri protested. "You're de one tryin' t' convince her dat she should try 'n patch t'ings up wit' Remy, not me. You don' really expect her t' hang 'round here for a few days 'til all dis nonsense is done wit', do you?"

"Look, ah didn't come here to interfere with whatever it is you guys have planned," Rogue said carefully. "If you need me to stay outta sight for a few days while you take care of business, ah will. Ah don't like it much...but it's your territory down here."

"Actually," Henri began, "now dat you mention it, you jus' might have perfect timing." He glanced at Jean-Luc, who was clearly not happy with his son, then looked at Rogue. "I have a plan..."

* * *

_It's been a while_  
_Since I could look at myself straight,  
It's been a while  
Since I said I'm sorry.  
It's been a while  
Since I've seen the way the candles light your face,  
It's been a while  
But I can still remember just the way you taste..._(2)

Gambit studied the gloved hand on his arm with a fascination that can only be achieved by someone intoxicated. It was delicate and graceful - decidedly feminine, yet powerful. His eyes inched up the attached arm, gliding over a series of silver bands until he reached a pale bare shoulder. His gaze skipped over the strap of her outfit lightly, landing on a plain black choker, where he stopped. He dared not look at the face of the woman standing before him...it would inevitably disappoint him. He stared at the choker for the longest time, searching the thick, dark material for some kind of sign, but found none. Taking a deep breath, Remy forced himself to meet the eyes of the woman before him, ready for his hopes to shatter once again...and almost fell off the barstool when he was greeted with the familiar features of the one he sought.

"Rogue!"

For her part, Rogue said nothing. She didn't have to speak, her face said it all in a haunting mixture of regret and forgiveness. In his stupor, he reached up to touch her cheek, a move she tenderly rebuffed by taking his hand in both her own. "You look terrible," her gentle voice stated, somehow floating over the booming music.

"You look amazing," he slurred, finally taking in her form-fitting maroon dress, black stockings, and thigh high black boots. Her hair was mostly pulled back, her white streaks hanging loose, framing her face. She was not dressed nearly as extreme as some of the hard-core Goths, but fit in nonetheless. And yet, she still managed to stand out.

"Ah do mah best," she said, releasing his hand and looking around. "Where's your girlfriend?"

"Who?"

This was not the time for him to play stupid. "Belladonna."

"Oh...Rogue, chere, I'm so..."

"This is neither the time nor the place," she interrupted. "We can talk about it later...right now, ah need to know where she is."

"Little girl's room," he replied, pointing in the general direction of the bathroom.

"Then maybe now's the best time to make our hasty exit."

"What about my drink?" he protested as she pulled him off his stool.

Without missing a beat, she grabbed the shot glass and downed its contents. "Let's go."

Impressed with her performance, he took a step back to admire her once again. "Wow, chere, never t'ought you were de drinkin' type..."

She didn't have time for this...not if she was trying to avoid a confrontation with Belle. "We can talk about it on the way," she promised, taking his hand in an attempt to lead him towards the exit.

"I still gotta pay..." he complained, standing his ground.

"No worries, hon," the pink haired bartender interrupted, retrieving the empty glass. "This one's on the house."

"You didn't see where we went," Rogue told her quietly, hoping the woman was as friendly as she seemed.

"I didn't see anything at all," she replied with a smile. The way she saw it, if this girl was enough bring a smile to her customer's face in the state he was in, she was just what he was looking for. No need to get anyone else involved.

"Thanks," Rogue said before putting Gambit's arm around her shoulder and helping him stumble to the door. "Now let's see if we can't get you outta here before your girlfriend gets back..."

"She's not my girlfriend...I mean, she was...and...well...maybe she kinda is again...but not anymore...not now that you're here..." He continued his rambling explanation as they made their way down the dark, narrow alley leading to the street. Rogue remained silent, too busy trying to keep him from falling flat on his face to respond.

As they turned onto Toulouse Street, they found Henri leaning lazily against the wall. "Look at de state you're in," he scolded, shaking his head at Remy. "Dat girl's nothin' but trouble, why you had t'go an'..."

"Can't this wait?" Rogue asked impatiently. "You mind givin' me a hand here?"

Henri smiled and put his brother's free arm over his shoulder. He was beginning to like this girl. "Now dis girl, she's altoget'er somethin' different."

"I know."

"And jus' where do you t'ink you're goin'?" a woman's voice asked behind them, dripping with venom. "Tryin' t' steal my boyfriend away?"

The trio paused mid-step, and Gambit broke away from the others to pacify her. "Aw, Belle, c'mon now...we had our fun, but it's time t' get goin'..."

"You should be leavin' wit' me, lover, not your brother and some harlot." She eyed Rogue with mild disinterest. "Henri, does your lovely wife know dat you're out gallivantin' wit' street trash?"

Rogue turned around, shifted her weight onto one leg, and purposefully put her hands on her hips. Her expression was one of mild annoyance, though her anger boiled furiously within her as she faced her opponent. Belladonna was beautiful - long, blonde flowing hair, piercing blue eyes, a generously curvaceous figure - it killed her to think of all the things Remy must've done with her. She could just rip the girl's head off. But she held herself back out of respect for Jean-Luc. This was his home turf...it wasn't for her to start a fight.

Henri moved towards his brother. "I hope you're not tryin' t' start somet'in', chere," he began, his voice calm and cool. "Especially not tonight."

"An' jus' what is _dat _supposed to mean?"

Henri once again placed his brother's arm over his shoulder, and the two began to slowly walk away. "You gonna be de one t' break de truce? It's de night before de ball, Belle, you know better den dat."

His words made her pause, but when she spoke again, her voice was still strong and demanding. "I do as I please. Now give him back."

"Not even you can break de rules t'night...you may be daddy's precious little girl, but you an' I both know dat he won't allow dis. Not wit' all dat's at stake..."

The thieves had won...they knew it...and Belladonna knew it as well. The shaky truce held between the Guilds during Carnival had not been broken since it was forged many years ago...she didn't dare cross the line. Not tonight. If her actions resulted in a dissolution of their temporary armistice, she would be excommunicated from the Rippers...the fact that she was the daughter of its leader would mean nothing. It was a move she couldn't afford to make. But she was unwilling to concede defeat. "You wan't him dat bad, take him...in dat condition, he's of no use t' me anyway." She turned to return to the club, where she had instructed her friends to wait for her. "An' make sure you take dat whore wit' you...I don' want de likes of her anywhere near me."

Remy and Henri had made it back to Rogue by then, and she was about to take Gambit's other arm...but Belle's last words were the final straw. She smiled sweetly at the men, held up her index finger so they would give her a minute, and walked towards the other woman.

Her heels clicked purposefully on the pavement as she approached Belle, who had stopped by the entrance to the alley and was waiting for her with a look of amusement on her face. Henri leaned Remy against the wall and waited in anticipation...praying that Rogue wouldn't do anything rash.

"First of all, before you go around callin' other girls hookers, you might wanna take a good look in the mirror," Rogue began, stopping a foot away and giving her an exaggerated once over. " 'Cause in a getup like that, ah have to wonder if the House of the Risin' Sun knows that they're missin' one of their employees."

Belle glared at her...she wasn't used to people talking to her like that. "You better watch yourself, _petite_. You don' know who you're dealin' wit'."

"And secondly, ah ain't Henri's girl..." She spun around and made her way back to the two men. Concealing a smile, Henri was once again supporting his brother - he was _really _starting to like this Rogue girl...he understood what Remy saw in her.

Rogue turned around once more before placing Gambit's other arm around her shoulder and finished her sentence. "...ah'm Remy's."

Remy burst out laughing as the trio disappeared around the corner onto Bourbon Street, leaving Belle fuming outside the Dungeon. If it was any other night, she would've killed them on the spot...made an example of them...showed others what happens to those foolish enough to cross Rippers royalty. But Henri's words weighed on her...she could not shake the importance of them. She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths of the cool winter air.

_"Doesn' matter," she told herself, "dere's always t'morrow."_ Opening her eyes, she headed back inside. _"Yes,"_ she thought with a dark glee, _"Let dem go for now...make dem pay later..." _

* * *

(1), (2) - Excerpts from _It's Been A While_, by Staind 


End file.
